


A Raven's Chance

by abernathy



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Raven!Neil, Slow Burn, canon-typical violence from the butcher and associates + the nest, jean needs to be protected too, my update schedule is unexistent because i'm in premed and everyone knows how THAT goes :), neil is slightly more decent with phones, now for cw: off-screen dubious consent (rape? this is riko/neil you know the drill), riko is Nasty so nothing changed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 104,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abernathy/pseuds/abernathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[PREVIOUS TITLE: SELLER OF SOULS] Raven!Neil; Nathaniel Wesninski has lived his entire life in the shadows at Castle Evermore, but now that star-player Kevin Day has deserted, he's the newest replacement for the Edgar Allan Ravens. Stuck in a city he hates and suffering through a lifetime of abuse from Riko, Nathaniel finds his only way out is through a promise with the most unlikely of allies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 24-06-13

**Author's Note:**

> All that I'm saying is, Riko/Neil is a ship from hell and though I will explore this relationship in this fic this is not condoning them. Thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't beta this + wrote the last 200 words on mobile drag me n my lazy ass
> 
> this was rewritten on 18/10/16

Hell broke loose on the twenty-fourth of June, specifically at five in the afternoon, when a sports website released pictures of Edgar Allan's striker Nathaniel Wesninski with the number "4" tattooed on his cheekbone.

Nathaniel had seen a lot of scandals in his days. It was impossible not to when he’d grown up entangled in the most well-known collegiate Exy team in the world, the Edgar Allan Ravens. This was the first time, however, that he was the center of attention in one, and willingly. Three hours ago the first pictures of Nathaniel as the newest member of the Perfect Court started circling around the internet. The paparazzi had already been warned a bomb was coming when they were asked to sit around a park Nathaniel allegedly used for his afternoon jogs, but it was impossible they—anyone—knew the proportions this thing would take.

It had only been three hours since the pictures were leaked by a sports website but the entire world of Exy had turned its eyes to Castle Evermore to wait for a pronouncement from the Ravens’ captain, Riko Moriyama. He was the main character in the Perfect Court and he was the one who had called in the paparazzi to take the pictures in the first place. The Perfect Court consisted of the best players in collegiate Exy who were the best candidates for US Court in the future. It was an arrogant standing from a few good players and not seen as a positive thing in a few circles, but there wasn’t a single Exy fan who didn’t know about it. Riko tagged the players with numbers; himself as number one, Kevin Day as number two, Jean Moureau as number three, and now Nathaniel Wesninski as number four.

Nathaniel now watched from a comfortable couch as a professional team finished pampering Riko up for national television. They had worked on him first with their hundreds of brushes and hair products despite his protests that he didn’t need so much. Nathaniel had seen Ravens getting ready for television many times before but this was his first time going in since he was a child. He wasn’t necessarily nervous because ever since he’d made it to the team he’d gone through extensive media training, but knowing the conversation was going to be about the “4” newly-tattooed on his left cheekbone made his stomach churn.

He looked down at the phone in his hands with a sigh. He’d just finished reading an article on Kevin Day’s alleged jealousy towards him and it was taking a great deal to keep himself from shaking. Kevin wasn’t jealous, not at all, but it was inevitable that that was what most people would think. Most of the sports reporters had moved to Evermore to attempt exclusive content about the Perfect Court with some of the Ravens but a few who wanted to stand out went to Palmetto University instead. Palmetto was in South Carolina, all those states away from Virginia where the Ravens were based, and even in a different Exy district. Most importantly, though, it was where ex-Raven Kevin Day was about to start his season.

Kevin had, like Nathaniel, grown up inside Evermore and he’d played for the Ravens for a full year before he broke his dominant hand in an alleged skiing trip eight months ago. His college contract was thrown out even before doctors could tell whether he’d recover but he was offered a job as an assistant coach for Tetsuji Moriyama, the Ravens’ main coach. The Exy world was on edge for weeks with both Riko and Kevin missing from the starting line-ups but finally Tetsuji had addressed the matter of their absence on a press conference, giving the heart-breaking news to the Raven fans that missed the infamous duo. It only took one day for the Palmetto States Foxes’ coach, David Wymack, to announce Kevin was recovering in South Carolina and would take a job as his informal assistant coach for the rest of the season. No one expected Kevin to continue with the Foxes after the season was done, but a few weeks ago he’d been announced in their starting line-up as their newest striker.

The Raven fans didn’t take the news well. They were already feeling betrayed for the fact Kevin had chosen to be an assistant coach for Wymack instead of Tetsuji. Hearing Kevin was ditching the Ravens for good was outrageous for them. Though Nathaniel didn’t blame them completely for wanting Kevin and Riko, Exy’s golden duo, to continue playing together, he felt bad for all the negative reaction Kevin had been receiving. The press and the people didn’t know about what happened behind closed doors at Evermore; they didn’t know Kevin was the lucky one.

Now the reporters had gone after him and tried to get his reaction on Nathaniel making it to the Perfect Court. Kevin had gone through the same media training as Nathaniel and usually had on a press-ready smile in front of the cameras but even he couldn’t force a happy expression at hearing the latest news. Nathaniel and Kevin had grown up together and saw themselves as brothers. Kevin was afraid for Nathaniel but to the press it only seemed like jealousy for Riko having a new favorite.

Nathaniel tapped on his phone absently and wished for the time to pass by more quickly. He wanted to get this interview over with and hide under the covers until he was forced out again. The interview would take place at eight-thirty and they still had twenty more minutes to go, however, so Nathaniel occupied himself with analyzing the make-up equipment over a table in front of him. He was so absorbed in it he didn’t hear when Riko got up from his chair across the room and made way to sit down beside him on the couch. Nathaniel started but forced himself to relax soon after.

“On edge?” Riko asked in a semi-amiable tone. When he wasn’t angry, this was the tone he usually used for Nathaniel. It was like he wanted to be pleasant but his nature fought against it. It made Nathaniel even more uncomfortable than the usually venomous tone Riko used with the other Raven players, even when he wasn’t about to start throwing punches.

Nathaniel forced a half-smile on his face. “I am about to appear on TV for the entire country.”

“That’s cute, but you don’t need to worry.” Riko put a hand over Nathaniel’s thigh. “You already read the script for Sydney’s interview and I’ll take the lead. You only have to talk when you’re directly asked a question. I got you.”

The smile on Nathaniel’s face widened but he hid it on his left hand in the pretense of being shy. In truth, he had to put his hand against his lips to prevent his gag-reflex from kicking in. Riko’s infatuation with him had been going since their preteen years but lately it had become more accentuated. Nathaniel didn’t know if it had something to do with Kevin’s absence but the timing coincided. He wondered, not for the first time, if Kevin had tried to put a barrier between Riko and himself. It would only be a half-surprise if he had.

Riko didn’t try to strike up a conversation again but with him on Nathaniel’s side to put him on edge, the time passed faster. Soon a woman in her early-thirties showed up in front of them and announced they had five minutes until the show started. Nathaniel remained sitting down given he would only come in later but Riko moved closer to the archway hidden behind the scenario at the main stage. Riko didn’t spare him a second glance but put on a fake smile on his face.

The ten-second countdown started and on the tail-end of it Sydney Loren entered the stage overexcitedly. She was a pretty brunette known for her enthusiasm and big breasts. Nathaniel had met her before and thought she was incredibly irritating but the people in the audience beamed at the sight of her. She waved at them before sitting down behind her wooden desk and picking up a stack of cards. Thankfully she didn’t—couldn’t—drag out the intro for too long, because her show was only forty-minutes long and, between commercials and repercussion, there was no time to lose. She shot an amiable smile towards the camera, announced her guests, and said a few of them had surprises that would blow everybody’s minds.

“Now, I know normally the Ravens are seen as a unit, but not today. Today we have scheduled a lightening interview with the two Ravens who have caused the most confusion on everyone. You already know who I’m talking about, right? Yeah!” She laughed at the crowd’s response, pumping her fist up in the air. “Well, I’m not even going to finish my intro, then. For those who didn’t catch up on our first guest, let me introduce him for you.

“He is only twenty years old but he’s already a well-known star in the Exy scene. He’s known for his ruthlessness and good looks, he’s the captain of the number one collegiate Exy team, the Edgar Allan Ravens, and a starting striker for the US Court! I urge you to welcome with open arms our first guest for the night: Riko Moriyama!”

Arguably the crowd for her show had never been so excited. Before she could finish her introduction there were already people standing and clapping, some of them even screaming. Nathaniel saw on one of the many monitors that they were still focusing on Sydney. She threw a hand to the air, faking to give up then laughing at herself. Excitedly, she gestured for Riko to enter the studio. He went through the archway and stepped down a small flight of stairs, finally showing up from behind the scenario props. He grinned the same empty grin he always gave at these interviews, but the crowd loved it. Riko chuckled at the response of the audience then turned to greet Sydney. He looked so approachable Nathaniel had to gulp down a snort. Riko gave Sydney a hug and a kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the first red seat.

Sydney waited until the audience had calmed down to direct him to her first question. She had distributed a script with her intended questions when they first arrived in the studio but she’d let them know it wasn’t certain she would ask all of them, or that she wouldn’t ask something else. Riko gave Nathaniel a dismissive gesture when that put him on edge. He said it was unlikely she would deviate much, because the Ravens’ agents advised interviewers not to, and even if she did, Riko could handle the misleading. “Riko,” she said. Her voice shrieked a little at the end of his name. The audience laughed and Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet so quickly. I thought I’d have to beg for weeks before I even got a response from your management!”

“Normally you would.” Riko shrugged. “The Ravens are a busy bunch. You know, school, training, trying to maintain a decent social life. But there are some news that I felt couldn’t be overlooked. We wanted to tell you right away.”

Sydney widened her eyes and nodded overenthusiastically. “Yes, yes, the pictures that circulated this afternoon couldn’t be overlooked in the slightest. I have to be honest, Riko. I got a little wary when I saw them today. Nathaniel has been on the team for merely the better half of a year.”

Riko shifted but his grin didn’t get any smaller. “That is only because he couldn’t enroll earlier in the university. Nate was freshly eighteen when we signed him, as you all well know. He’d finished high school only a week before. But we grew up together: me, Nathaniel,” he paused. Riko was an actor, Nathaniel knew. The pain in his eyes was only half-real. Riko was hurt over Kevin’s departure but not because of the reasons most people would think. Kevin leaving meant a public dismissal of the Ravens; that was the only thing Riko actually cared about. After a few heavy seconds, Riko said in a low voice, “Kevin.”

Sydney looked like she’d been praying this subject would be brought up. Nathaniel understood her excitement; there weren’t many reporters who’d gotten the chance to talk to Riko about Kevin and vice-versa. The Ravens’ management advised the press not to discuss the matter and the reporters who were lucky enough to get an interview with a Raven in the first place wouldn't risk disrespecting their rules. “Aw, honey, you look a little pale. I can see Kevin is still a touchy subject for you.” She turned to stare at the cameras. “For those who don’t know, Kevin Day was Riko’s partner in court. They were two of the best strikers out there, but Kevin broke his hand last year and couldn’t play. He’s recently announced his new contract with the Foxes, but we’re all still hurting over his breakup with the Ravens. But what about you, Riko? Any hard feelings?”

“Not particularly. I think—Well, Kevin broke his hand and there was nothing we could have done to keep him in our team. Even though his left hand is recovered now he’ll never play like he used to. I did resent that he turned down the offer to become the Ravens’ assistant coach. We were like brothers. But neither of us had a good time accepting the fact that our dreams of being together on Court had collapsed. I feel sympathy for him now that he’s with the Foxes, but only because he’s playing again. I know that Kevin will never be the same with his non-dominant hand—but it’s sad that he’s had to step as low as rock bottom.”

“Surely it must have been hard adjusting to being in the court without the person who’s been your pair since you started your career.”

“Difficult, yes,” Riko said dismissively. “But not impossible. We Ravens work hard enough not to let it compromise our performance in the games. We’ve recruited other strikers since his departure and even though their skills don’t match Kevin’s with his left hand, our coach and I push them just right. I try to compensate for Kevin’s absence. I don’t mean to be conceited, but it seems as though it’s working,” he beamed. Sydney and the audience beamed with him.

Sydney turned her chair so that she could look at him straight in the eye. Her expression had turned serious but Nathaniel knew the next round of questions that were to come and had to suppress and eye roll. Sydney already knew about the news they were announcing tonight but he guessed she was as much of an actress as every other person who showed up on television. She started on a low tone, presumably hesitantly, “About the rumors that have been going around the internet lately… Would you care to tell the true from the false?”

“I will try my best,” Riko nodded.

Slowly, Nathaniel rose from his spot on the couch. His entrance would be at any time now and he could see one of the make-up artists urging him towards her frantically. He went to her but kept himself turned towards where the monitors were. She sighed but started working on him nevertheless.

“Alright. I have a few of them here.” Sydney shook her stack of cards and looked towards the camera. She wiggled her eyebrows and gathered a few chuckles from the audience. Then she turned back towards Riko and said, “Ah, yes! Here: the latest word is that you and Kevin hadn’t spoken since his transfer but you spoke today and exchanged words of hatred and jealousy.”

Riko’s expression turned sullen. “That is false. Sadly Kevin and I haven’t talked since even before his transfer—he booked a flight to South Carolina only two hours after he injured his hand.”

Sydney’s eyes widened. “I’m surprised to hear that! I would have thought the golden duo wouldn’t split for anything in the world.” She sighed. She looked at Riko expectantly as if waiting for something else, but when he kept quiet, she looked down at her cards again. She cleared her throat and her tone became excited again. She said, “Alright, moving on. You and Eleanor Hatfield are dating.”

“False.”

“Eric Marron from the Baltimore Wildcats was just signed to your newest lineup.”

“True,” Riko relented, then widened his eyes theatrically, “But I’m not supposed talk about it. There’s going to be a press conference and all… Oops?” He joked.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes yet again. Riko didn’t do things by accident—he’d done it to undermine even more Kevin’s image. Eric Marron used to be Kevin’s own pair when Kevin played for the Wildcats and he was, apart from Nathaniel, the best replacement the Ravens could get. It was a clear message that the Ravens were ready to move on from Kevin Day. Nathaniel thought again about how Kevin must be handling this situation. Certainly he was watching this right now. Nathaniel wondered if he still made it a habit to drink his emotions away. At this time of night he’d be drunk already.

The make-up artist working on Nathaniel’s face stepped away from him to assess her work then gave him a white-teethed grin. She had faded pink hair that seemed almost gold mixed with her bleached base. There were at least five piercings hanging from her face alone and Nathaniel wondered how she was able to smile with all that extra weight. Still, he could tell she was trying her best to be seductive. She couldn’t be much older than him but Nathaniel felt it was inappropriate. When she gave him a thumbs up to signal he was ready to go, Nathaniel didn’t so much as look her way before stepping around her and moving towards the archway Riko had entered a few minutes ago.

Sydney had moved on from the Eric Marron mention and was talking about something that Nathaniel couldn’t understand out of context. Riko said this new rumor was false and finally Sydney moved to her last item on the list. Nathaniel looked at the director working beside him and moved to ask where exactly he should stand. The man spared him a brief glance then motioned for someone to take care of him. A huge man showed up at his side and positioned him correctly.

“Last one!” Sydney warned. She said, “Rumor has it you and Nathaniel are a pair now.”

She said it like she expected it to be false but she already knew the answer to that question. Since Kevin’s departure, many had asked Riko who would be his new pair, but Riko insisted he hadn’t found someone skilled enough to replace Kevin. Now, however, Riko grinned venomously and said, loud and clear, “True.”

There was a long silence in the studio, then a low buzz started from the audience as they processed this new information. Nathaniel saw that even some of the staff behind the scenes were frowning. They were expecting Nathaniel to be announced as the newest member of the Perfect Court but he’d hadn’t even played an entire season with the Ravens yet. Most people didn’t know who he was before then—though Kevin and Riko had grown up in the public eye amongst the Ravens, Nathaniel couldn’t be placed with them as one of Tetsuji’s kids because he still had his father and it would incite questions. As a result he was seen as a newbie in the public eye. It wasn’t a surprise that people were shocked by learning he could so easily and quickly replace someone they’d seen as their golden boy.

Sydney recovered from her fake surprise and said, wide-eyed, “Oh, wow! Does this mean Kevin has been officially replaced?”

Riko gave away some of his cockiness when he shrugged. He said, “Something like that.”

“So much drama in the Exy scene right now!” Sydney sang, looking at the audience. The man beside Nathaniel gestured for him to get ready and held up five fingers. “I think maybe someone else might help us get a better grip of the situation, wouldn’t you say, Riko? You wanna call for our next guest already?”

Huge Guy began a countdown with his fingers. Riko laughed, “Sure.”

“He is the striker that has best improved this year, and he has proved himself over and over as someone to watch. He’s only eighteen years old but he’s got enough talent to be paired with _the_ Riko Moriyama! Please welcome Nathaniel Wesninski from the Edgar Allan Ravens!” Sydney announced, turning towards the archway from which Nathaniel was supposed to come out.

Huge Guy’s countdown ended. Nathaniel moved. His face was sour from all the falseness going around but by the time the props unshielded him he had on a huge grin. Nathaniel was not used to smiling a lot but he’d learned to school himself into a half-relaxed, half-condescending posture when he was in public. His reaction to the audience was so plainly rehearsed Nathaniel had to keep himself from cringing. He gave Sydney a kiss on the cheek and sat down on the second red seat beside Riko.

Nathaniel didn’t think he’d really be nervous when he was in front of all those huge cameras but he surprised himself when he realized he was shaking. Riko gave him what seemed like a playful shrug but there was a warning in his eyes. Gradually, Nathaniel forced himself back into neutrality and only then managed a smile. He knew that Sydney had asked him something and that he'd replied to her question, but even as he spoke he forgot the words. Only a while later Nathaniel realized he wasn't scared of the cameras; he was scared of slipping up beside Riko.

The interview went on for a long time and Nathaniel let Riko lead like he said he would. Sydney thankfully only asked him a few questions. Nathaniel wondered if she'd been instructed to do so by Riko or the management. He'd remember to thank them later. This way, he only needed to sit still, pray that this would be over quickly, and remember to smile.


	2. 13-07-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i already said this in the tags but!! cw for non-con. like not really non-con because it is con but just. i won't go detailed on this kind of content but read at ur own risk. thank u!!
> 
> also, drag me for nicknaming Nathaniel "Nate"

It had been three days since Riko and Nathaniel announced to the world that they were in a relationship, and after many, many bottles of the strongest alcohol any of the Foxes could find him, Kevin still hadn’t gotten over the news.

People had asked him about it only hours after Riko confirmed it via Twitter, and by then Kevin had already heard the rumors. He had been trying to contact Jean ever since he read them, but the call rang only on the first try and ever since then the machine said the phone was out of service area. Kevin knew that Jean was actively avoiding him, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

The thought that there was something going on between his childhood friends disgusted him. Nathaniel had never tried too hard to please Riko, only falling in line when his mother died and his father stopped pretending to give a damn a few years back, and there was absolutely no way that he had grown feelings for someone like Riko. Many times before Kevin left Nathaniel was inquired about his love life, both by the public and by the Ravens, and he always told them that he didn’t swing. Many didn’t believe him, but Kevin knew that if Nathaniel could have chosen to be something else, he would have.

Knowing this, it was obvious to understand why they had engaged in a relationship: Riko, who had always had feelings for Nathaniel, had enough leverage over him or someone that Nathaniel cared about—Jean or Ellie—that would make him agree to something of this caliber.

Now the Foxes were supposed to go to a banquet at Castle Evermore to welcome the new members of the district, and Kevin wasn’t sure he had the stomach to stand inside of those walls again, let alone witness Riko cozying up to his new boyfriend. As a matter of fact, Andrew had to carry Kevin to the bus (because Kevin was too drunk to it himself) and then, once Kevin had sobered up, there was still the necessity of pointing knives at him to get him inside of the airport. Said knives would have to stay with Abby for the team get inside of the plane, Kevin had argued, but Andrew had simply grinned in response. It made Kevin shudder more than the sharpest of the objects Andrew had ever pointed at him.

The plane ride passed by without major accidents; Andrew had given the flight attendants a little bit of trouble, but once his medication started wearing off he became tired enough to sleep (he would wake up when there were any noises louder than the chatter, however. It seemed as if he couldn’t ever let his guard down, not even in his sleep.) Once the Foxes landed, there was a big number of Exy fans waiting—not for them specifically, but for all the Exy players that would be coming through the doors of the airport that day. Castle Evermore was far away enough for most of the teams to fly instead of drive.

Because the banquet as two-days long, Wymack was forced to book the Foxes a hotel. Dan had tried to convince him to only stay one day, but he had the reasonable argument that none of the teams or the ERC had too much sympathy for them, and if they ever needed any favors, they couldn’t simply rely on Kevin’s fame and press-ready smile. The other Foxes didn’t bend to this argument, but Dan, being a good enough captain, understood. She didn’t argue any more after that.

They got to the hotel at night, nearly one, and Wymack didn’t allow them to drink or stay up late—the former with the exception of Kevin, because Kevin’s only therapy was drinking, and the latter with the exception of Andrew, because Andrew would do whatever he wanted, and Wymack wasn’t in a sour enough mood to refute it. Therefore, when the Foxes went each to their respective bedrooms, Andrew went out the balcony to smoke.

Kevin, struggling not to trip over himself, sat down on the ground beside him. “We’re so fucked.”

“Correction,” Andrew snap back, “You’re fucked. Your liver might as well shut down now.”

“Says the man holding a cigarette,” Kevin scoffed, and Andrew understood how drunk he must be, because normally Kevin was too afraid to use this tone with him. Andrew moved to take the whiskey from Kevin’s hands, but the only thing the striker did was hiss and put it out of his reach. Andrew rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t interested enough to try again. “I fucking need this. Riko’s gonna kill me tomorrow.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be too busy with his plaything to notice you.”

“Fuck you.” Kevin chugged down more of the drink. “Fucking Wesninski,” he continued muttering, and shaking his head, he added, “Dumb as fuck.”

Andrew threw the rest of his cigarette on the ground and put it out with the ball of his foot. He shot Kevin an unimpressed look then said, as he turned to get inside, “You would have done the same thing if Riko had a thing for you.”

Kevin sighed. He gulped down whatever was left of the whiskey and then, when he realized he didn’t have any more of it left, he stared up at the sky and sighed again. He didn’t realize his eyes were watered until he couldn’t make out the stars anymore. Kevin looked back at where Andrew had disappeared and struggled to get up the ground, taking one, two, three minutes more than he should have. He wasn’t only shaken by the alcohol; Kevin knew what he would have done if he was in the same situation as Nathaniel, and it wasn’t pretty.

 

* * *

 

Here’s what leverage Riko had over him: absolutely everything. This meant, of course, that Riko didn’t actually have any more leverage to hold over him that would make him go on a date. It had come to this: Riko spoke, Nathaniel acted.

Really, Nathaniel never meant for things to escalate to this. It was supposed to be only a date, and then he would go back to dodging Riko and his violent attempts at flirting. It was just—he had been so surprised that Riko actually acted out on his feelings that, even before he had fully comprehended it, he had already accepted. Jean thought it was his sense of self-preservation.

After he’d accepted, Nathaniel had sat down with the Ravens and explained to them what was happening; though most of the players didn’t get along more than necessary to play a good game, there was an unspoken agreement among them that, whenever Riko was involved, everyone needed to be on top of the matter. To say that they were all as surprised as Nathaniel was an understatement; Ellie cussed, then she stepped out of the room before the tears in her eyes started to fall, and Jean and the rest of the team simply stared at him as if they hadn’t heard him right.

Whenever the Ravens recruited someone new, it was the senior players’ job to tell them all about the rules inside of Castle Evermore. One of these rules was, and this had been highlighted by Tetsuji himself, that none of the Ravens players was allowed to date. Tetsuji did turn a blind eye when it came to sex, sure, but that was mostly because the sex was among the team. Going out on dates, however, was absolutely forbidden.

Jean had tried to use this argument as a way to help Nathaniel out of the situation, but the Ravens were quick to shoot him down; Nathaniel _had_ to appeal to Riko’s ego, or else. And so it had been decided: he and Riko were going to go to a date, and it was a public enough place that required a custom-made suit that cost about the same as Nathaniel’s Exy equipment (said suit had been left over his bed, right alongside the card that invited him to get dinner with Riko).

When the date finally came, Nathaniel went in with a plan. He would go along with whatever Riko had planned for the night, but would in no way encourage him or make him think that Nathaniel had grown feelings over the course of the few years since Riko let his infatuation be known. And in some ways he did just that; except Riko didn’t catch on that he didn’t want to be there, or simply didn’t care, and gave out passive-aggressive remarks whenever Nathaniel said or did something that he didn’t appreciate, the same way he always did.

The truth was that, to some extent, Riko had actually tried. He let at least one of his guards down the second the two of them sat across from each other at the restaurant, and he ordered wine and waited patiently for Nathaniel to pick his order. Then he asked for the same thing, and when Nathaniel gave him a look, Riko chuckled and shrugged. When he got a nervous chuckle in return, mostly a mimic than anything else, Riko must have thought that he thought it endearing, because he reached out for Nathaniel’s hand and then looked at him as if he dared him take it.

Against his better judgement, Nathaniel did.

And so the rest of the night went. Riko chattered about nothing in particular, not at all bothered that it was mostly unilateral—he was already used to Nathaniel being quiet in his presence. Their hands were only not entwined when they were eating and when Riko had to decline a phone call from someone that he didn’t bother specifying. For probably the first time in his life, Riko apologized for the interruption, and then reached out again, despite Nathaniel’s many attempts at trying to keep his two hands busy with something.

Nathaniel didn’t know what he had been expecting; he already knew that this would be like any other social situation with Riko, with him doing exactly as he was told and Riko enjoying every second of it, but this had been a lot kinder than what he had imagined. Riko paid for the dinner and as they waited for the car to come outside of the restaurant Nathaniel kept looking around for paparazzi, but for once Riko didn’t or acted like he didn’t care about them. In fact, when Riko finally asked what was wrong (in the same annoyed tone that he always used) and Nathaniel told him, he simply laughed, shook his head and took two steps closer. He laced their fingers together and raised his eyebrows in a challenge. Nathaniel calculated every escape route then.

Nathaniel didn’t know what had had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't for Riko to kiss him.

It was sad, really, that this had only been Nathaniel’s second kiss; the first being with a Raven girl who graduated a few years back, when he was fifteen, which allowed him to understand that he didn’t actually swing. There, with his lips pressed to Riko’s—he had taken _a long_ time to force himself to kiss back, because only God knew what Riko would do if he was rejected from this—he kept thinking to himself, I don’t swing, I don’t swing, I don’t swing, this is just me and someone else— _Riko Riko Riko_ —touching. But really he knew better.

Thankfully the car had come before anyone spotted them, and immediately Riko stepped back and gave Nathaniel a smile full of danger. The two of them got into the car, and by the time they were dropped at Edgar Allen, it was as if the night never happened; Riko went back to his usual annoyed expression and Nathaniel to his apathy.

Nathaniel had thought, _this was it_ , and even gave Jean a thumbs up when he and Riko joined the Ravens in the couches to watch a Trojans and Bearcats scrimmage. There was no time to tell the rest of the team about how it all went, and none of them dared to throw him curious glances when Riko was in the room. There was a heavy silence during the first five minutes of the match, and then the game got intense enough for everyone—even Nathaniel—to forget for a little while.

After the game ended, he’d started heading towards his dorm side by side with his previous pair, Ellie, thinking that Riko was going to a night practice like he usually did. Nathaniel didn’t even realize they were being followed until Ellie gave him a look and sighed, and then, with the most discretion possible, nodded towards his and Riko’s room. Nathaniel recoiled so hard at the sight of Riko waiting by the doorstep that he nearly hit his head on the wall.

“Oh. Riko,” he said once he’d recovered, his tone the most natural he could manage, “You scared me.”

He didn’t actually expect an answer, because that was usually how it went down, but Riko smiled and mumbled, “Didn’t mean to,” and it was the single most awkward conversation Nathaniel had ever had with him. From behind Riko, Ellie’s head shot up and she gave him a look that he couldn’t return.

“Come on,” Riko said, imperatively, and wrapped his hand around Nathaniel’s right wrist. Without looking back at the third player in the corridor, he went inside the room and hummed for Nathaniel to close the door.

Being pinned down to his mattress and having part of Riko’s weight over him was more suffocating than most of the punishments Nathaniel had ever received in his life, either from Riko himself or Tetsuji or his father or mother. As he let himself be kissed senseless, Nathaniel's escape was to think about the many injuries he was saving himself and his teammates from. Sometimes, when Riko demanded, he even moved around a bit, not ever taking control. It was the way it had always been. Only when Riko’s hand travelled down his pants Nathaniel broke the kiss and said, like he was a deer caught in the headlights, that he hadn’t ever had sex. Riko raised an eyebrows—he was probably the only actively playing Raven that was a virgin—and then looked a little bit like he was annoyed, but finally nodded and put his hands back on Nathaniel’s hips. Eventually he went to his own bed to sleep.

And then somehow they were boyfriends.

The day Riko first used this term, he had explained that Tetsuji had called him out because of their relationship but that he had “shown him”. Shown him what, Nathaniel didn’t know, but apparently Riko got the permission he wanted. A week after that, Riko started showing affection in front of others (Jean was convinced this was only to piss the Ravens off—whenever Riko wasn’t in the room, they would continuously talk shit about this being sick and distracting and not what Edgar Allen needed right now). Two weeks later, and after many dates in which Riko still didn’t seem to care at all about the press (Jean was convinced this was only to piss Kevin off), the rumors started. Riko told him not to say anything, but he waited until it was four days to the first banquet to confirm it via Twitter. He also gave Nathaniel a new SIM Card and threatened Jean and Ellie until they turned off their phones.

Nathaniel didn't know if he had it in him to be in the same room as Kevin and act like he didn't care. It was Riko's instructions to the Ravens; Kevin was a traitor, and to treat him with anything other than scorn would be the same as condoning him. Most of the Ravens agreed with Riko in this aspect. Most of the Ravens didn't know half of the story.

But Nathaniel and Kevin had grown up together, and even though Kevin's life had been more submissive than his own, the two of them understood each other. Kevin was the only person who could calm down Nathaniel's mood swings in which he wasn't the Exy Player but instead the Butcher's son. Nathaniel was the only person who Kevin could be around without even thinking about Exy. Riko was an unwanted third part of this equation, but Kevin and Nathaniel  _worked_.

He at least wished that Kevin didn't hate him by now, but it wouldn't be a surprise if he did. After Riko broke his hand, Kevin had tried for days calling Nathaniel and Jean, and neither one of them answered, even though they knew exactly what happened to him. At the interviews that followed, they had to act like they were sad about this tragic incident, and then, when Kevin announced he was switching to the Foxes, like they were angry and disappointed. In reality, they were happy and a little hopeful. Kevin was the first of the Ravens to get out.

(Jean mentioned once that maybe that was the only way; to not be able to play Exy anymore. Nathaniel gave him a look, both because he wouldn't give Exy up for anything in the world and because he was the Butcher's son, and getting out wasn't an option for him—ever. Jean sighed, then mumbled something about not having the guts to do it, either.)

Looking at the ceiling of his and Riko's bedroom, covered in stars that nearly didn't glow anymore—Kevin had them glued there when he was very little and fixated with space and afraid of the dark—Nathaniel sighed. Thankfully Tetsuji had pulled Riko that night, to sort something out for the banquet, and he was alone in the dorm. By now the other Ravens were in deep sleeps, not at all worried about having to face their former colleague when the day started. Nathaniel shivered just at the thought.

He turned around and then looked at door; still closed like he left it, and Riko's voice nowhere to be heard. In an impulse, he sat up on his bed and then searched for the iPhone that Riko had gave him when the summer break started.

_I'm sorry._

He didn't have Kevin's number in his phone anymore, but he knew it by heart. Before he could find it in him to be afraid, he pressed 'Send' and let out a heavy breath. Nathaniel didn't bother telling Kevin what he was sorry for, because Kevin would know. Nathaniel was sorry for everything: for Riko breaking Kevin's hand, for not returning to his calls after he fled, for vilifying him in the press, for submitting to Riko's advances and for letting Riko call him his boyfriend.

Nathaniel didn't put a name to the number because he was too afraid Riko would look inside his phone. He wished he had it in him to not care, but he was just so so tired of taking a beat from everyone—Riko, his father, Tetsuji, the Ravens who were angry at him for being "Riko's bitch" just in order to gain favor—that submitting seemed like the best option to keep it from happening.

He rubbed his eyes and lied back down. Nathaniel was fast asleep when a beeping sound startled him, and he knew already whose text it was, but still he looked:

_Who is this?_

Two more minutes passed.

 _Nate?_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna make a squad and the main goal of the squad is gonna be dragging riko


	3. 14-07-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're wondering whether i used the banquet at blackwell as a reference, the answer is: u betcha  
> tw: light mentions of non-con!!

For the same reason the ERC had chosen to make this banquet mid-July, they had picked out Castle Evermore to host it. It was a bigger stadium than any of the other teams’ and the players should know what it was like to be on that specific court—or that was Tetsuji’s argument when he convinced the committee to purposefully choose Edgar Allen instead of taking a draw.

Nathaniel didn’t know at first why Tetsuji and Riko had been so keen on getting the banquet to be on Raven soil, but it all became clear on the day that they started setting things up: intimidation. Though the Ravens had grown used to the blackness of Castle Evermore, every other team shuddered inside of those walls. This was a time, Riko explained when Nathaniel asked, for preparation.

If the ERC ever dreamed of these types of conversation, Edgar Allen would probably be forced to cut a good part of the money destined for the Ravens, giving the size of the lawsuit they would be facing; emotionally taking down your rivals was something that the head of the ERC himself had given lectures about. But it was also the Ravens’ greatest ammo, not only against the other teams, but also amongst the team itself, to establish the hierarchy. It was the main reason why they had to refer to Tetsuji as Master.

On the day of the banquet the Ravens woke up at six in the morning like in every other day, ran laps like in every other day, and trained so hard their ankles felt like giving up like in every other day. Then, after they showered and got lunch, Tetsuji sent them for last-time errands for the banquet, mostly to keep a handful of players—particularly Nathaniel and Jean and Ellie—from causing any incidents, either with the press or with Riko.

The first to arrive were the Bearcats. The second, the Trojans. The last, the Foxes, and they came in so close to dinner time—Nathaniel figured it had to do with Wymack aiding Kevin with his controlled yet irresponsible alcohol intake—that the kitchen staff had already started panicking about the food getting cold before it was served. Tetsuji used their lateness an excuse for not being able to welcome them properly and simply sent out someone from the ERC to guide them to their seats.

Differently from the Ravens, a few of the Foxes had brought dates—the one Minyard twin who wasn’t a psychopath came to the table hand in hand with a girl that wore too many bright colors and seem too cheerful for Nathaniel to actually enjoy her presence, and the obnoxious cousin was babbling on and on with a boy who looked too lost amidst the Foxes to be accustomed to the Exy scene. Nathaniel immediately lost interest in him.

The team captain walked in front of the rest of the Foxes and as her team sat down in their respective seats she gave out the most polite smile she could manage and said, “Riko Moriyama.”

In response Riko offered her his free hand (the other was holding his chin; this was the default pose of the Ravens) with the same unamused expression he always wore when he talked to someone he considered too inferior (which was basically everyone but his elite team). The captain hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and shaking it. “Danielle Wilds,” Riko said, and quickly retrieved his hand. “I’ve been watching you.”

Beside her, Matthew Boyd, one of the Foxes’ backliners, snorted in his hand. He tried to pass it up as a cough, but when he saw that it didn’t work, he muttered to himself, “That’s not creepy at all.”

Danielle gave him a pointed look before walking over to the chair with her name, a few seats away from Riko. Once she had settled in her seat, she opened the same smile as before—Nathaniel was starting to think it was more condescending than polite—and asked, with a sweet voice, “Watching me?”

“Well, of course. You’re the only woman captain in Class I and II Exy. That’s an accomplishment, even for someone at your level.”

The corner of her lips twitched, but she hid it with her hand in a movement so fast Nathaniel was unable to think of her as weak for showing any reaction to Riko’s passive-aggressive attacks. “I figure you mean the fact my Foxes are at the last position on the League.”

Riko gave her a toothy grin. “See! You _do_ know what the people are talking about,” he said, and then nudged Nathaniel. Once Nathaniel showed that he was paying attention, Riko pointed towards Danielle and explained, “I told you even _they_ knew about their lack of skills.”

Danielle opened her mouth to say something, but from behind someone hit her chair and sent her towards the table. She had to grip on the edges of it to keep from bruising her stomach and, when she didn’t hear an apology, she turned around with a frown. The start of her words barely reached Nathaniel’s ears and then he realized that she had stopped mid-sentence. Curiosity won him over and Nathaniel’s eyes moved from where his and Riko’s hands were entwined under the table to the person who had bumped into Danielle’s chair. It shouldn’t have surprised him that the person to shut her up was Andrew Minyard, the psychopath.

“Andrew,” Riko called, his tone as calm as if he was calling for a friend he hadn’t seen in a long time, “I was wondering whether you’d show up. I heard everyone here has a tight leash on you and maybe your meds wouldn’t go well with all these people surrounding you… But then again, I guess someone has to play guarding dog for Kevin and his—”

“Are you done? I have to take some pills that’ll keep me from impaling you and put it for show just outside Evermore doors.”

Riko chuckled. “I heard you were a sweetheart.”

Andrew shrugged. “That’s what they used to call me in juvie right before I smashed their heads in the wall so hard they couldn’t differentiate left from right.”

“I didn’t think they could even in the right conditions.”

“Bah,” Andrew gave Riko a dismissive gesture. “You just don’t give them enough credit, Riko-boy.” And then he winked and turned to find his seat right beside Kevin.

Riko had insisted on making the seating chart himself, which meant that Kevin was right in front of Riko and Andrew was right in front of Nathaniel and Nathaniel was right beside Jean, so Jean could hear every single bit of the conversation involving Kevin. The rest of the Foxes’ formations had been picked out randomly, because even though Riko was obsessed enough with sports to know at least a little bit about each of their lives, he didn’t care enough to make an order to mess with their minds. The ones that mattered were right in front of him, anyway.

The food would be served at any minute now, and the fact that Wymack still hadn’t returned meant that he was negotiating trading seats. Nathaniel noticed it and so did Riko; and because he wouldn’t have a good chance to do it at any other time, Riko took this moment as the best to rub his relationship in Kevin’s face. Riko moved their hands, already entwined underneath the table, and put them over it.

Kevin looked like he wanted to throw up. Nathaniel was aware of his staring, but didn’t have the courage it took to take his own eyes off of his lap to actually stare at the green ones he knew so much; suddenly he was more ashamed than he’d ever felt in his entire life, because of the tattoo on his cheek, and his fingers locked with Riko’s over the table, and the fact that he wouldn’t do something about either of those things any time soon.

Something moved abruptly beside Kevin, but it stopped before Nathaniel could recognize it. Every one of the Foxes looked the same; Danielle had the same condescending smile, Kevin looked seconds away from retching, and Andrew’s expression was the same one Nathaniel had always seen in his face: complete apathy. Nathaniel frowned, but immediately averted his gaze back to his lap.

The one to give it up was Jean, who for once wasn’t able to sit still and pretend like everything was just fine. He shifted once, twice, and on the third time, he squirmed.

Riko grimaced and asked, like it took years from his life span, “What?”

“If you don’t control your pet monster, I’m going to deal with him myself,” Jean muttered with his teeth gritted. Nathaniel had only heard this tone on him a handful of times.

Kevin moved so fast from across the table that Nathaniel heard his back bones cracking. Kevin hissed something in German, too low and fast for anyone else to understand, and Andrew grinned. Nathaniel recognized real madness in his eyes; but somehow it was different from Riko’s. Before he could place exactly what it was, Andrew’s hand emerged from under the table with a sharp knife. No one missed Jean’s sigh of relief.

“Fucking unbelievable,” Jean said.

The Ravens prepared for a snarly comeback from Andrew, but he seemed content in knocking down spice containers and crumbling down pieces of bread. When an answer did come, they all had to look around for a bit to identify who had said it; and then check again, because the other Minyard twin had only spoken publically a handful of times. Still, he said, loud and clear, in a voice that sounded too much like his brother’s, “You jealous of this kind of protection?” Aaron took a bite from his food. He chewed slowly, but his look didn’t allow anyone to speak while he did so. “Since not all of you can sleep your way into the good life.”

Nathaniel shifted. This was what he had been expecting for the night.

“Aaron,” Kevin said, but it was a mixture between a warning and a plea.

Finally Andrew looked up from the spice containers and grinned, “Aaron what? You think he’s wrong?” He sang. “Look at him! He can’t even hold your gaze. He’s too ashamed. Disgusted, even.”

It was obvious that these words were a provocation, almost a request for Nathaniel to engage in the conversation—by now Kevin had already told Andrew about his sharp tongue—but with Riko right there by his side, there was absolutely nothing that would get him talking. Riko knew this. He smiled, and then leaned in as close as he could to Nathaniel, his breath sending shudders down his skin. Noises of outrage came from both teams, but they were both too scared to do anything about it.

Riko’s head turned to stare at Andrew and he gave out a dirty smile. “Doesn’t seem like it when he’s crying out my name.”

Again, Nathaniel shifted. The tips of Riko’s hair were brushing against his neck and all that he wanted to do was move away, maybe even recoil, but he forced himself to stay still. His other hand, the one holding a fork, was beginning to turn white. Nathaniel could see from the corner of his eye that Andrew had noticed that, but thankfully chosen not to acknowledge it.

“Crying? Now that’s more like it,” Andrew bit his tongue. “It doesn’t surprise me your skills in bed would make someone cry.”

Riko snarled in response, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, leaned further into Nathaniel’s side and nipped at his right ear. Nathaniel shuddered. “You like it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Nathaniel kissed him as an answer.

He did keep his eyes open through it, though, like he always did, because he needed to have some control over the situation; and because he didn’t want to look at Riko, he looked at the next best thing that wasn’t Kevin: Andrew. The two of them stared at each other like it was a staring contest and their lives depended on winning.

As Riko forced his tongue into Nathaniel’s mouth, however, Andrew’s eyes turned into something else. His expression remained the same—unimpressed—but his hold in a bottle of water changed only slightly. Hadn’t it been for his mother’s lessons on how to read someone’s entire body language, Nathaniel wouldn’t have noticed it.

Andrew’s stare was so intense Nathaniel had to look away. He gazed at the ceiling instead.

“Excuse me,” a strong voice caught his attention. When Riko didn’t back away, the same voice coughed overdramatically. “The team captain?”

Slowly, Riko detached himself from Nathaniel. “Hm?”

“I’m David Wymack, the Foxes’ coach.”

“I know exactly who you are.”

Nathaniel’s guts twisted. The last thing the Ravens needed was a public argument with another team’s captain, so he knew that Riko wouldn’t really do anything to cause a commotion. Still, the challenge in his eyes wasn’t at all tamed—Riko never tried to contain his temper when he was dealing with these people that he wanted to stablish authority over.

“Right.” Wymack squinted. “The ERC thought it was best to keep the biggest rivals away from each other. My Foxes will move to table 6, if that’s okay with you. The Trojans will be here soon.”

Riko only bothered to give the coach a gesture of dismissal, and it was something so well-practiced that it caused more disrespect than anything Riko could have told him. Wymack hesitated for a moment, turned his hands into fists, then turned around with a _tsk_. Nathaniel had to squeeze Riko’s thigh to keep him from going off again.

The two of them remained still for a few more seconds, and it seemed as if Riko was assessing everything that had happened. Kevin hadn’t moved from his seat yet, probably because Andrew hadn’t either, but Nathaniel knew, even without daring to look at him, that he wanted to be everywhere but there right now. In front of him, Riko gave a smile so large his eyes almost closed completely.

Nathaniel knew this light in Riko’s eyes all too well. He turned on his seat, so that he could look at his boyfriend without pulling on the stitches and bruises from practice. “You knew that was gonna happen.” He didn’t bother covering his voice; if Riko hadn’t sent Kevin on his way yet, it was because he wanted to be heard.

“Of course I did.” Riko shrugged. “No one in their right mind would let the Foxes stay with us for more than ten minutes. That Minyard twin—” He didn’t finish his sentence, which was probably to annoy Andrew, who was only two seats away.

Nathaniel risked a glance at him; he had gone back to the sauce containers and bread crumbles, but not with the same fake concentration as he had before. He was paying attention.

Jean muttered in Japanese, “Why aren’t they leaving?”

“Kevin because his new boyfriend hasn’t left yet. And his boyfriend because—” Riko pursed his lips. He stared at the top of Andrew’s head for a long while, assessing, before giving his conclusion, in English, “Because he’s got psychotic protection instincts and is trying to figure out whether I’m a real threat to my own boyfriend.”

Andrew looked up and forced a smile to his own face. Then again, his pupils were the size of the moon. Nathaniel figured he had just recently taken his medication.

“Oh, no, sugar. I already know you’re a threat to your own boyfriend,” he mimicked. “Try again. Something about how I’m trying to figure out what kind of punishment you force on him when he doesn’t let you into his bed at night.”

Riko raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have to punish him to get what I want. He gives it to me,” he said, slowly, “and he likes it.”

“Getting a hard-on is biology, not consent.”

“You would know.”

Andrew smiled. He patted his armbands absently, but when Kevin fidgeted beside him, Nathaniel figured that maybe it wasn’t so absently, after all. There was some more silence before Andrew asked, almost in a mockery tone, “You been talking to Pig Higgins?”

“I don’t talk to the police.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for so long that even the other Ravens got uncomfortable. Beside Nathaniel, Jean’s leg grew restless. Nathaniel had to give it a pat before Riko noticed—Jean had already done too many things today that granted him punishment, and by now Riko’s mood had soured enough so that he’d count everything as a reason for one more minute underwater. Jean swallowed, but his leg stopped.

From the other side of the room—most specifically the farthest away table there was—someone shouted Kevin’s name. Nathaniel wasn’t familiar enough with the Foxes to pinpoint exactly who it was, but he figured it had been Wymack. Behind them, the Trojans had started getting up from their seats and the first of them had already turned to make her way to table 9.

Andrew must have noticed it too, because he got up quickly and, not before giving Nathaniel a sharp look, turned on his heel to meet his team. Kevin seemed relieved for being able to do the same, and the others from Andrew’s group followed immediately.

Nathaniel waited until they had all reached their new table before turning around and asking, almost giddily, “Are you with me just to make Kevin angry?” And he hoped the answer was yes, because that meant there was a way he could put an end to it.

( _Well, we can’t just be in a relationship to make someone else angry. There are more effective ways. Yes, Riko, I know that you’ve been trying to go out with me since I was fourteen, but Kevin was already in our lives, then, so how I can really know that you didn’t want to make him angry then? I can’t do this. Forgive me, but I need more than this._ )

But instead of giving Nathaniel the answer that he hoped, Riko merely kissed him.

Nathaniel sighed into the kiss. Maybe tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for some reason i thought this was really short? but it's 3k so not that short?? did anything really happen in this chapter?? i'm sorry just KevinxRikoxNeilxJean really going off can't happen while they're so afraid of riko


	4. 14-07-13 (11PM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i beta this as much as i should have? probably not but fuckign.  
> tw: mentions of non-con/violence

Castle Evermore was a dark stadium, larger than any other Exy stadium in the world, and it was always warm. Perhaps it was all the black or the potent air conditioners the board had installed. When you entered Castle Evermore, the first thing that you saw was a large room with a large picture of Tetsuji and Kayleigh Day on the day they threw the first Exy match, and arrows that directed you to the wing that you bought; the stairs were large and dark, and there were small lights in every step to make sure no one tripped and caused a bigger incident during game nights. To the right, there was a black door and the words “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” written in red, large enough so that it would never be misread.

Some people thought that was where the Ravens went into when they arrived for games and practices, but the door lead only to a small hall with a receptionist, the only room that wasn’t painted in black, and two sets of stairs; one up, one down. The one that went up ended up in a corridor full of doors, which went for coffee break rooms for the staff to a large office for Coach Moriyama; and the one that went down lead to a small room with two other doors, one which lead to machine room and the other, which would only open with a code that changed every couple of weeks, that lead to the nest.

This entrance was there only for Tetsuji and Riko to use. It was a dark door with little illumination and you had to walk for a few minutes before getting to another door, where you could finally enter the place in which the Ravens lived.

Most players didn’t have the liberty to come and go as they wished, but still, there was another entrance, and this was the one they were allowed to use. Only Riko had a key for it, and Tetsuji, though Tetsuji could barely tell where his was stashed. It was on the side of the stadium and the huge parking lot had been built right in front of it, so that the fans could see the players arriving in their official bus (the Master always made them put on a show, leaving the stadium a couple of days before the fans started arriving and then coming back inside of the black and red Ravens bus).

And as soon as you entered the nest, there was a big white plaque with all of the nest’s rules engraved on it. One of these said, in these exact words, that any player who was out of bed by 11PM, with the exception of game nights, in which the curfew extended to 1AM, would be penalized.

Tetsuji got the rule approved by the board three years ago when a freshman didn’t respect the already existent but unofficial rule that the Moriyamas had imposed. Nathaniel remembered it clearly; Riko had yanked at the freshman’s hair and dragged him—the freshman was screaming—all the way up to Tetsuji’s room, saying quite explicitly everything that he would do in retaliation of someone breaking his rules. Tetsuji calmed Riko down and explained that they could use this lack of respect for rules as a way to make curfew official and, two weeks later, a new plaque had been made, and this one had the curfew notice in it.

It was now 11:24PM, and someone was knocking on Nathaniel’s door.

He knew that it wasn’t Riko, and that the Ravens didn’t have the guts to break one of Riko’s rules, not this far into the year; this meant that the person standing on the other side of the door was Jean, and that Riko had given him permission to be there. Nathaniel sighed in relief, knowing that Riko wouldn’t be coming in and kissing him until they both grew too tired to kiss anymore. Then he reprehended himself, because if Riko had given Jean permission to break one of the rules, then the situation was worse than he thought.

Slowly, because the bruises from this morning’s practice were still hurting, Nathaniel took off his headphones and moved out of bed. He opened the door without bothering to glance at Jean on the other side, because by now he had forced himself to not get surprised at whichever state his friends came in. He simply left the door open and moved to the bathroom where the extremely well-equipped aid kit was.

When he returned Jean was already lying on his bed, the sheets a wrinkled mess on the ground and at least half a dozen towels spread under him, so that none of the blood would stain the mattress. In his hand, his usual gag—a small black towel which he’d bought four years ago (because if Tetsuji ever got woken up by one of the Ravens screaming while getting stitched up, then said player would have to take _another_ beating). Jean shot Nathaniel a pointed look, but didn’t say anything.

Nathaniel raised a brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” the backliner muttered. He closed his eyes and after a moment changed his mind. “Just. You’re clean.” He didn’t bother to elaborate, because it was fairly obvious what he was talking about; and even if Nathaniel hadn’t understood the words, he had already heard more explicit ones coming from the other Ravens’ mouths.

Pressing his lips together, Nathaniel looked at himself in a large mirror over his and Riko’s beds, which had been pressed together ever since they started their relationship. “I don’t usually get beat up, Jean. Don’t listen to them.”

Jean hummed, but didn’t disagree. Nathaniel didn’t push on the subject; there were some nights in which Jean got fed up with the entire situation and was more easily manipulated by his Raven colleagues, and Nathaniel was no fraud to call him out on it. If Jean listened to what their poisonous tongues had to say, Nathaniel rolled and played dead whenever Riko asked him to. One was a sheep and the other a lap dog. The perfect duo.

But the thing was—Nathaniel was royal blood. Though his father was merely a subordinate to the main branch, he had years of work with them and he was known for doing a good job. His wife’s dying wish had been that Nathaniel was kept away from the Moriyama’s claws for as long as possible, and this forced Nathan’s hand; at last he asked Kengo to tell Tetsuji to keep the violence to a minimum, at least concerning his son. The second branch was still submissive enough to anything the main branch told them to.

This meant that whenever Riko got mad at him, it was the other Ravens who paid the price, and this was one of the many reasons why they all hated him. A lot of them had come to the second branch as a way to pay old debts; if their parents owed too much and their child had talent in Exy, then said child was as good as sold. During the first year, they were allowed one phone call every month. Then the adoption papers were released and they were officially Moriyama property. It was what the Ravens called them: soul sellers. Because they didn’t care.

Nathaniel was different. This angered every single one of them.

It angered his friends, too, Nathaniel knew. Tonight Ellie had pulled him into a corner after the meal was served and asked, “You’re not actually sleeping your way into the good life, are you?” And there was venom in her voice, because she was jealous. Nathaniel did not blame her.

Still he had snapped back, “You wanna switch?” There had been a long silence. He could see her mind working on reorganizing her thoughts and eventually getting them back in place.

Ellie had pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. “You’re so right. What the fuck.” (And then they had returned to the rest of them team. At public events like these, they weren’t allowed to break the Raven formation for too long. Again, this was a time for _intimidation_. And their formation was _intimidating_.)

Nathaniel got a towel Jean had already laid out beside the bed when he realized that Jean was wet. He didn’t ask, because he didn’t have to—Riko had just recently discovered waterboarding and he had been trying to test Jean’s limits on it. Nathaniel had been there during the first time it happened, and after he’d seen Jean twitching throughout the entire night. Now he carefully toweled down Jean’s body—he had already undressed completely—and then started to analyze his wounds.

The knife-inflicted cuts that Jean’s new partner, Cassie, had stitched up a few nights earlier had ripped and were starting to get infected. There were a few new bruises added to the ones already healing. A few new cuts, not too deep, in the entirety of Jean’s abdomen and some on the inside of his thighs, so that he’d hurt whenever he had to run during practice. Nathaniel had dealt with worse. Tonight the damage was mostly psychological—the waterboarding.

Nathaniel gestured towards the gag and Jean stuffed it in his mouth without any objections. Riko didn’t let them use any anesthetics unless their injuries were so bad they’d pass out from the pain (and what would be the fun in having one of the players black out when they could be experiencing all the uncomfortableness of getting patched up?), and even then they’d have to go to the infirmary to get it. It was just easier not to complain.

He took the small bottle of whiskey inside the aid kit and poured it over the stitches without mercy. Jean shuddered and his jaw clenched, but he’d experienced this times enough to do this without screaming. He did his work meticulously, like in every other time. Jean was always careful to him as well, when it was needed (though Riko only laid his hands on him when he really, _really_ screwed up. That meant: when he did something better than Riko, when he scored more goals than Riko, when he got a pat on the shoulder from Tetsuji and Riko didn’t).

Still, he knew that it hurt. The first times he’d patched Jean up were the first times he’d ever patched anyone up, and he’d said sorry throughout the entirety of them. Now he didn’t bother. It wasn’t his fault; the one who had to be sorry as Riko.

Jean’s fingers curled in fists and he gripped the towels as best as he could. Nathaniel could only hear whimpers with the gag in Jean’s mouth. The tears that escaped the defenseman’s eyes didn’t impress him either; they _always_ cried.

When he ended, Nathaniel didn’t make Jean take off the gag or immediately go back to his room. Instead, he got up from where he was straddling Jean’s legs and went to put back the aid kit and throw away everything he’d used. The towels, he put in the trashcan, too; Riko had instructed them not to save the ones that had too much blood in them. He washed up, stared at himself in the mirror for a solid minute—when had he gotten like this? He seemed thinner, though his diet was the same and he was working out just as hard as he ever had, and his eyes were hollowed. Even his hair had changed color, from auburn to a dull brown, lifeless and spiked up—and went back towards the bedroom.

Jean had made the bed and was now sitting down at the edge of it with a sigh. He didn’t acknowledge that Nathaniel and Riko’s bed had moved closer, but it was obvious that he noticed by the way he was making himself small in the room. Nathaniel didn’t like to think about that, either.

“I wish that Minyard psycho would just fucking go.”

Nathaniel’s lip tugged at the corner. He turned around to search for some clothes in his closet that would fit Jean, and then moved on to the drawers where he kept his boxers. “I think he’d like that, too.”

“No. You know what I mean.” Jean licked his lips. “Go from the Foxes. Drop dead, if that’s what it takes. He always gets on Riko’s nerves. I don’t want to pay the price anymore.”

Throwing the clothes to right beside Jean, the striker mumbled, “I don’t hate him that much. He’s the reason Kevin got out.”

Jean sighed. “Exactly.” And Nathaniel sighed, too.

It’d been nine months since Kevin disappeared from Evermore, but Jean still resented him for it. Nathaniel didn’t think that Jean was particularly mad at Kevin for getting out; if anything, he was jealous. It was more that Kevin had got out and not _told him_. Or tried to bring him along. In this matter, Nathaniel’s feelings were the same.

Seeing Kevin at the banquet today had been like a stab to the back. Nathaniel had grown up with him, and they’d heard their entire lives the Moriyama mentality; it had been hard to fight off the word that flowed from all of the Ravens’ lips, even Jean’s, even Ellie’s: _traitor_. It had been hard, but Nathaniel had forced himself not to say it. Because Kevin was not a traitor. Kevin was the lucky one.

Nathaniel knew that they all knew that, too.

Still. How were they supposed to survive Riko now?

He had thought he’d been doing them all a favor when he let Riko kiss him for the first time. For crying out loud, they had talked him into going to that date in the first place; did they really think he’d have the guts to turn his face when Riko tried to kiss him? And _really_ , did they think he’d say no to all the good things that came with being Riko’s boyfriend? He knew they would have made the same choices he did, every single one of them. He was not a good enough person to take the high road.

He had thought he’d bene doing them all a favor, but that was not the truth. Ever since they became public about their relationship, Riko had become even more unpredictable than before. When he saw one of the Ravens staring at Nathaniel for too long, he went on a fit of jealousy, and Nathaniel always had to reassure him by pinning him to a wall and kissing him senseless. The Ravens were the ones to leave the room, not them; they never seemed to realize the toll this was taking on him.

Even with all the kisses and reassurances, however, there were still beatings and torture sessions. Riko had gotten creative since Kevin’s departure. He made sure to learn what his players were the most afraid of, and use it against them. The only ones who escaped the torture were the players who’d been hired—but they were treated with such scorn none of the Ravens even bothered to be jealous of them.

It was Hell.

When Nathaniel realized that Jean still hadn’t moved, he nudged his former partner carefully and whispered, “You should go.”

Jean nodded, but he didn’t move. He was shivering from the cold, though there was sweat all over his body because of the physical strain of being drowned and then getting stitched up without any anesthetics. His eyes were focused on nothing at all. This had become his default expression.

Nathaniel tried again, “Jean. You should _go_. Riko will be here soon, and he won’t like seeing you on our bed at—” He stretched out his neck to check the clock. “1:44AM.”

He thought he’d gotten through, but Jean simply echoed, “Our bed.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Will denying it make anything better?” he said, at the same time that Jean asked, “Did you sleep with him yet?”

Silence.

Slowly, Nathaniel nodded.

Jean looked like he was two seconds away from puking. His mouth fell open and he had to take in a sharp inhale. Then he mimicked Nathaniel and nodded, in the same tiny gesture, and whispered, “I’m gonna go. I’ll give you back these clothes tomorrow.”

He made sure not to look anywhere near Nathaniel’s eyes. He got dressed unsteadily, turning down every offer Nathaniel made to help—they usually got each other dressed when things were this bad—and got out of the room without saying anything else.

Nathaniel remained sat down.

When Riko opened the door to their dorm, it was already 3, and Nathaniel had barely moved an inch. Riko sighed, went silently to the bathroom and came back with gauze around his knuckles. He got undressed and kicked off his shoes, without batting an eye at the state his boyfriend was in. Only when he was completely ready for bed he kicked Nathaniel’s feet gently and hummed. Nathaniel moved.

They lay down next to one another and, as they had been doing for the past weeks, moved closer together. Riko turned off the lights then hummed for Nathaniel to come even closer. Nathaniel didn’t respond in any way but doing what he’d been asked; he rolled until he was with his stomach to the mattress, entangled his and Riko’s legs, hid his head in Riko’s shoulder and put his hand over Riko’s chest.

Riko seemed content, because he hummed and kissed Nathaniel on the top of the head. “Good night.”

Nathaniel gritted his teeth and purposefully unclenched his jaw. It felt like hours had gone by before he said, in the sweetest, gentlest tone he could manage to say, “Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i say this Every Time but....let us all drag Riko...hold my hands and chant with me, visualizing his face..."suck my dick"  
> 100% guaranteed method to get rid of unwanted a**holes  
> PS: do i read every single one of your comments? absolutely. i see u and i appreciate u. 90% of my time is spent refreshing my email for ao3 emails telling me theres a new comment. and i giggle. now, you may be wondering, why don't i respond to all the comments, only to the ones with questions? well, that is an easy one. because i am a piece of shit who doesnt know how to take compliments. if i say im gonna cry or send u little hearts i am actually blushing and shrieking. this has been a PSA!


	5. 15-7-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they don't use the word but there's mention of non-con just a warning!!
> 
> This is normally how long updates will take ok?? And from now on since the plot is going forward the chapters might be longer but again this means a few extra days to make sure its perfect/fight back laziness/beat writer's block  
> anyway this is 5.6k HELL yes.  
> also...did i beta this? at all? hell NO because its 3am my back hurts i came back from a party wearing 9cm heels and its 7ºC i am in hell

Theoretically, the second day of the banquet should go better than the first. Riko’s seating chart had been replaced by one the ERC made last night and there were no activities besides dinner that forced the teams to interact. If they made an effort to avoid chaos, then both the Foxes and the Ravens could go through the entire day without so much as looking at each other.

Realistically, the Ravens were too hateful and the Foxes too stubborn to actually let it pass.

It was a good thing that Riko was being more closely watched by the ERC now, Nathaniel figured. After Coach Wymack had gone to speak to them about the problem and the obvious-yet-unprovable fact that it had been an intimidation technique, the ERC members who were at the banquet promoted a small meeting amongst the coaches about using this weekend to bond, and then, in private, told Tetsuji to put a leash on Riko. This was, of course, the reason why Riko went off on some of his players last night. But it kept him from crossing any lines.

Because the better part of the court was being occupied by tables and hideous cushioned mats, the were unable to have their usual morning practice, and were excused to do their own things. Riko called for his elite so they could all have breakfast together and, right after, went off to talk to Tetsuji. This meant that Jean was able to go back to his dorm to sleep off some more of his pain, and that Nathaniel and Ellie could go for a run without being bothered.

Eleanor Hatfield had been transferred to Edgar Allen two years ago, in her sophomore year, because she’d caught Riko’s eye, and she'd quickly become friends with Nathaniel. Maybe it was because she had the same Exy fixation as the rest of the Ravens while still being able to be a decent human being, maybe because she knew exactly when to speak and when to shut up. She’d lost in the pool of possible partners for Nathaniel in the small window between him starting college and being assigned to Riko, but she was a nightmare in goal (not on the same level as Andrew; this was the only reason she hadn’t gotten a number on her cheek yet) and she and Nathaniel knew how to work perfectly on the court—maybe only losing to Nathaniel and Riko, but that was because the elite worked itself to exhaustion.

Today she had known better than to speak. She answered Nathaniel’s text asking for her to meet him at his dorm with a smiley face and put on her earphones as soon as they made past the Nest. The Master didn’t allow any of his players out of the campus for just any reason, but thankfully Edgar Allen was large enough that they could run the perimeter a couple of times before getting tired. Usually Nathaniel could outlast Ellie in a run easily, but Ellie knew exactly how much Nathaniel needed time to think, and didn’t complain about continuing to run even after she had started sweating and panting and reaching for her bottle of water every five minutes. They ran slower and for a longer time than usual, because they didn’t have a set time to come back. Nathaniel thought this freedom was the best feeling that he’d had in months.

They were returning to the Nest when Ellie finally took off her earphones and started, hesitantly, “Nate, we’re concerned about you. Jean spent the night crying because of Riko _and_ because of you. This morning he told me you said you and Riko had sex. And I just… We really hoped you’d stay away from his rape-y tendencies because he liked you and wouldn’t hand you over to the others, but just—What I’m trying to say is—if you need to talk to someone or something—Jean and I—we get it, alright? We shouldn’t get it, but we get it. So—”

Nathaniel had stopped paying attention before she’d finished her first sentence. He focused his attention back on Ellie when he realized she had stopped talking, shrugged and said, “Don’t.”

Ellie had nodded and put her earphones back on. When she spoke again, it was to tell him goodbye, and she seemed willing to act like their weird conversation—her monologue?—had never happened. Nathaniel was thankful for having her as a friend yet again. Jean didn’t try nearly as hard to understand him.

It was near ten-thirty when they got back, so Riko had already finished up with Tetsuji, and he’d been watching an old Raven match against Penn State on their bed. Neil had greeted him with a hum and announced that he was going to shower. He’d figured he’d take his time in order to avoid Riko for as long as possible—they’d head to the court at eleven-thirty—but after a few minutes inside the tub/shower he’d heard a knock on the door of the bathroom, followed by Riko getting inside and stripping. He had asked, “Can I Join?” Nathaniel couldn’t think of a better answer than “Yes”.

They were only done a few minutes before they had to get to the court, and when they got there, the first thing Nathaniel noticed was that the Foxes hadn’t arrived yet. He remained beside Riko for the whole time they didn’t, following him around and putting on a show for the ERC and the press. He even bothered to go meet the other teams’ coaches and tell them how the Ravens were looking forward to play against their teams throughout the season.

Like yesterday, the Foxes arrived so close to meal time that Tetsuji didn’t go out to greet them. He grimaced at Wymack and gestured for the cooks to bring the food. The most normal Foxes didn’t have good poker faces; Nathaniel could tell their belatedness had been on purpose. Like yesterday, the Trojans were in front of the Ravens and the Foxes in with the committee, at table six, the furthest away table they could be from the hosts.

Nathaniel could feel Andrew’s gaze on him throughout the entire lunch. He didn’t have what it took to stare back, because he knew exactly the reason why he was being stared at—and he didn’t push off Riko’s arm from around his shoulders, either. Nathaniel ate his lunch quietly and gave Riko attention when Riko demanded it. He didn’t even acknowledge Jean’s and Ellie’s pointed looks.

After lunch, the president of the ERC welcomed the Ravens to the Southern League in a speech so boring Nathaniel was almost relieved when Riko pulled him to a corner under the bleachers and pressed their lips together and pulled on his hair. He’d thought for a second that no one had noticed, but Jean’s and Kevin’s expressions were enough to convince him otherwise. Tetsuji had probably noticed, too, but Nathaniel figured that if Riko was doing this, then there wasn’t a motive to worry—Riko swore that he’d gotten the Master to approve of their relationship, and the Master hadn’t acknowledged it quite yet, but it certainly beat the alternative.

Nathaniel didn’t think Andrew’s gaze had left him once throughout the entire day, but he didn’t check.

At about four o’clock, the Trojans’ captain, Jeremy Knox, proposed a scrimmage. Nathaniel didn’t think much of it, just excited that they were going to play some Exy, after all, but his heart skipped a beat when Andrew was the first to back up the idea. He realized, all too quickly, that he would be playing against Kevin for the first time (because there was no way Kevin would play without Andrew on his team; and no way that Andrew would play in the same team as Riko). Nathaniel didn’t want to see in person the damage that Riko had inflicted on his hand; he knew the kind of memories it would bring up.

Still, when Riko volunteered to captain one of the teams, he knew he had no choice but to join in. Andrew took captaincy of the opposite team without batting an eye. When the number of volunteers reached higher than the necessary for a single match, they decided on tossing a coin and let the captains take their pick out of a pool of volunteers. Andrew started, and he caused a big commotion when he picked Nathaniel.

Reluctantly, Nathaniel started towards his side of the court.

He kept his eyes down at the floor, not having the courage to look neither at Andrew nor at Riko. He barely paid attention to what was happening around him: some the players who wouldn’t be participating had all gathered around the makeshift court—which was really just the other half of Castle Evermore that wasn’t being used to hold the banquet—while the coaches took off the mats and used scotch tape to mark the limits. Nathaniel could see from the corner of his eye that Wymack was more concerned in giving Andrew a warning look, but he was helping nevertheless.

Riko picked Jean next, saying his name in a tone so venomous Jean almost winced—they all knew what was coming later. Unsurprisingly, the third player in Andrew’s team was Kevin, and so the picking went on. Because this was a scrimmage, they shortened the match to only one set and kept the number of players at nine.

Like on most scrimmages, each team went towards their respective locker room—Riko had insisted they take the away locker room, because that was where they kept most of their practice gear, but Nathaniel was quite certain that it was because the away room was completely black and suffocating. Andrew didn’t say anything to his team. He didn’t even look at Nathaniel. He simply walked in front of the players and was the first to go through the practice gear. None of the Ravens had a height as short as his—especially not the goalies—but he went for the next best thing and took one of Nathaniel’s old racquets.

Nathaniel knew what Riko was expecting of him, and so he did it. Mumbling to Jeremy that he was going to get his actual gear and would be right back, he left the locker room as quickly as possible and moved towards the home one. When he got there a few of the Ravens Riko had picked scowled, but the players from the other teams kept their animosity in check. Ellie told him Riko had already put his gear aside and was waiting for him near his locker.

Normally, Riko didn’t appreciate getting cozy before games because it took away some of his concentration, but perhaps today he knew how much it would destabilize Nathaniel, so he merely stretched out his hand in front of him and waited for the striker to take it. Nathaniel looked around and whispered something about the bunch of people around them, but when Riko didn’t budge, he moved forward and pressed Riko between himself and his locker. Other Ravens let out noises of outrage, but like in every other time, none did anything about it.

Riko pulled Nathaniel in for a gentle kiss—or as gentle as Riko knew—and then moved so he wasn’t so suffocated. He didn’t let go of Nathaniel’s hand, making his way to the showers as he said to his team, “Fifteen minutes until you’re all ready.”

Thankfully their time was limited, so Riko kept to making out. In the seven minutes they were together he sucked none less than six bruises to Nathaniel’s neck, in places where it would be impossible to hide—of course the gear wouldn’t show it, but Nathaniel still had to make it back to his own locker room, and no one would fail to notice the hickeys. Nathaniel was aware of this even as he let Riko suck one after the other. Finally he pulled Riko in for one final kiss and told him that he needed to go get changed. Riko rolled his eyes, but let him.

The walk back to his locker room was awkward; taking off his clothes in front of his team was just embarrassing. Nathaniel knew exactly what his body looked like as he took off layer after layer and stared at the ground. Most of his bruises had gone away, because it had been quite some time since he angered Riko off and his new status as Riko’s boyfriend kept him from ever getting a beating too awful. There were a couple of scratches and remaining bruises from practice, but they were nothing that would startle the other players. Apart from that, the thing that was the object of attention of all of the other players in the room: hickeys and hickeys and hickeys. Riko liked those. There were the newly branded ones on his neck, alongside some on his collarbones that were already fading, and a trail that went down to his underwear.

Some idiot from Blackwell whose name Nathaniel only knew because he was forced to know the names of every player in the league whistled and made a funny comment about the increased frequency of bruises on Nathaniel’s hips. Nathaniel didn’t mind his comment, because he was used to being looked at that way by the Ravens, but his eyebrows furrowed when he realized that the guy stopped mid-sentence to gasp. He turned around, confused, and saw what shouldn’t have surprised him at all, knowing Andrew Minyard’s reputation, but surprised him anyway because it almost seemed as if Andrew was pissed off at the comments they were making _about him_ : in what seemed like only a second, Andrew, with his midget-y body, lunged at Johnathan Webb, with at least one foot over him.

Nathaniel expected Johnathan to remain impassive, maybe budge a little, but Andrew had caught him by surprise or was just experienced enough. Andrew grabbed hold of Johnathan’s jersey, only with one hand, and brought the other around his neck to keep him glued to the wall. Johnathan groaned and tried to use his legs against Andrew, but the grip around his neck tightened and he stopped immediately. Nathaniel didn’t think Andrew could win against someone like Johnathan if Johnathan really tried, but the expression in Andrew’s face was borderline psychotic and more frightening than any of his actions so far. For the first time since the scrimmage was proposed Nathaniel looked at Kevin, but Kevin had decided to ignore the whole ordeal and was finishing up with his gear. None of the other players seemed confident enough to intervene, but some of Johnathan’s teammates had moved closer and seemed ready to pry Andrew off of him if things went too far. Perhaps someone would be collateral damage, but Andrew couldn’t take them _all_ out.

“Am I gonna have to teach you a lesson in minding your own business, little Johnny?” Andrew cooed, his eyes blank but the corners of his lips curved up in a wicked smile. “Or are you gonna learn on your own when it’s time to keep your mouth shut?”

Johnathan pressed his lips together. “Hey, man. I was just cheering him on with his relationship. I didn’t mean to be—”

Andrew pressed himself closer and one of his hands lowered to Johnathan’s gut. Nathaniel thought he’d seen something shiny come from between his fingers, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. Andrew went on, “What. You didn’t mean to be what.” He let out a growl. “You. Riko and Nathaniel. I don’t see how those two are related. You’re never going to mention them again. Not any of you. I don’t want to hear about it, I don’t want to think about it—I didn’t even want to _know_ about it.”

“Alright, man. We won’t mention it again. Sorry.”

“Hm?” Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, no, Johnny. Shh, it’s okay, shh. You don’t have to be scared. I’ll let you go as soon as you say you’re sorry. To Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel gulped. He had seen his father’s men in action, and this reminded him an awful lot of Lola and Nathan teaming up against some of the Moriyamas' enemies. Though Nathan didn’t usually wear a smile when he was threatening someone, Lola seemed to always be at the top of her game when she did so. The smile she wore often looked like the one Riko wore; and now, with Andrew, Nathaniel tried to make the link. There was nothing. He figured it was the pills that were making up that smile, and that they were the reason why Andrew’s eyes didn’t live up to the rest of his face. Still, he shuddered, because he knew violence too well and because for once in his life he needed to go on without it.

“Hey, Andrew,” he said, hesitant and first, but then he repeated, his voice firm, “Hey, Andrew. It’s fine. I don’t mind the comments that much. Just… Let him go.”

This was not true. Nathaniel minded the comments a lot. But he also minded the possibility of Andrew cutting someone open in the middle of the locker room while the most important members of the ERC waited outside. He went over all the possible consequences: Andrew would return to the justice system and this time he wouldn’t be allocated to juvie, but to prison; the Foxes would be eliminated from the championship, and Kevin would either have to return as a coach or never play again, and he couldn’t have that, not after all he’d seen Kevin go through; the Ravens would probably get in some sort of trouble for letting someone armed inside their walls; et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Nathaniel minded the comments a lot less than that.

Andrew sang, “Wasn’t talking to you.”

“No, you weren’t.” Nathaniel ignored the threat in Andrew's words. “But I’m talking to you. And I’m saying I don’t mind the comments that much. Now let’s _go_ or they’ll come looking and if they find you here like this—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. I’m fully aware of the consequences, Nate,” he sighed. “Listen. All of you. This is all gonna be over as _soon_ as Johnny here express how sorry he is for sticking his nose where he doesn’t belong.”

Nathaniel squinted. “He’s not the only one.”

With this, Andrew let go of Johnathan completely. He turned to look at Nathaniel as the other players aided Johnathan and crossed his arms. On his face there was an instigating expression, a smile that didn’t go away no matter how hard Nathaniel tried to get rid of it. Andrew took one step, two steps, five steps, and stopped right in front of him.

“I know why you’re being like this. I don’t need your protection. I’m not Kevin.”

Andrew tsked. “Ah, Nate. No, listen, you just don’t get it.” He put one palm up and said, “I’m not doing this because I care about you. I’m doing this because I don’t want to think about your little sick, twisted relationship with Psycho #2. I also don’t like when people go places they shouldn’t. I’m guessing this is a very private territory.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Bullshit.”

“I don’t lie,” he said, “Differently from you. Now get on with it. Scrimmage’s beginning in five.”

The rest of the team, which had been paying close attention to this conversation, scattered as soon as Andrew said this. Nathaniel didn’t wait for Andrew to go over to stand beside Kevin to start putting on his clothes. He had the advantage of living here, so there were some clothes in his locker—he put on a gray long-sleeved shirt and some random black shirt he had kept in his locker for the start of this week and hurriedly adjusted his gear. By the time the clocks stroke five, he was ready to go.

Kevin was mid giving the plays they’d use against Ellie when Nathaniel got there. Kevin quickly put him on to speed then kept going without asking if he’d understood anything. Andrew was sat beside Kevin on the bench and seemed completely uninterested as he passed his fingers through his racquet, but it was impossible for him to be tuning out everything that was being said. When Kevin’s pep talk finished, he got up and moved out of the locker room without so much as glancing at the other players. He was already in goal when the rest of the team caught up with him.

There was no fuss before the match started, because this was only a scrimmage between—supposedly between friends. Riko was in the exact middle of the court waiting for a coin toss with the other team’s captain, Andrew, but Andrew remained impassive in the goal. Jeremy only asked him once to come forward then moved towards Riko. Andrew’s team won this one again, and the dealers went on to their positions.

Because this game was half of what they were used to playing, the teams went on full force. Andrew, who hadn’t seemed too interested in keeping teams from scoring against the Foxes since the start of the season, looked like he was in a personal vendetta. At every shot Riko’s team threw, he was there. Andrew even move out of the goal sometimes to keep the players from trying something too risky. Every time he threw the ball all the way across the court, and he was already sweating in the fifteen minute mark.

At thirty-minutes, Kevin had scored two times and Nathaniel had scored one. Riko had scored four points alone, but he was the only one in his team to score at all. The one-point margin was enough to cause tension between the teams and Nathaniel noticed his marks getting more aggressive as the timer went on. He had to use his speed to deflect Jean at least a handful of times, and even then, when he had passed through Jean, Ellie had slammed him into a wall. Nathaniel hissed at her, but she simply laughed.

On the back of his head, Nathaniel could hear that he was being yelled at from some point of the court, but he couldn’t tell from where. He ignored the screams and kept going. Nathaniel got the ball from Johnathan and hurried past Riko’s backliners with relative ease; he knew Jean’s game well and the other backliner wasn’t nearly as strong as the Ravens he was used to going against. He moved quickly enough that Ellie didn’t see him, and the players watching from around the court cheered to confirm the goal. Ellie hissed at him, and this was Nathaniel’s time to laugh.

He was on his way back to his starting point when he was slammed into the wall. There hadn’t been enough force to give him an injury, but Nathaniel felt it as his back pressed against the solid black wall. He stared up at the person in front of him and didn’t relax when he saw that it was Riko; in fact, his teeth only clenched and his shoulders grew tenser. He looked into Riko’s dark eyes and mumbled what sounded like an apology.

Riko growled, “Who are you trying to show off for? For Kevin? For Andrew?”

Nathaniel licked his lips and said, with his eyes down, “Sorry, I just got carried away. I was trying to check something in your defense. Jean can barely run.”

“Stop. There’s a reason the number on your face in four, Nate, not one. Stop trying to make me look bad in front of the Master. It’s not working, and it’s pissing me off,” he said, and then, moved closer, in a way that from the outside might almost look gentle, “You don’t want _that_ , do you, baby?”

It took at least a second to keep from retching, but Nathaniel said, his voice as confident as he could manage, “Of course not. I was just checking Jean’s injuries. I don’t think I patched him up right last night.”

Riko gave out an unimpressed hum. “Fix that right after the game ends,” he said, and then put on a smile. He rubbed his helmet against Nathaniel’s in a way that almost looked sweet. The two of them parted ways and went back to their positions. Nathaniel’s teammates were smirking as he went pass them, but they wisely didn’t comment on anything. Johnathan even looked back at Andrew. Nathaniel didn’t look at anyone who wasn’t directly in front of him.

The game restarted with the same adrenaline as before. This time Riko’s team was the one starting. The dealer shot the ball to Ellie as the strikers scattered on the court, and she shot it to the backliner, and the backliner back to the dealer and the dealer to Riko. Riko seemed even more energized than before. He went past the defenses even more easily than Nathaniel had and threw the ball at the goal with all his strength. Nathaniel braced himself to see the goal light up red, but Andrew was a phenomenon in goal and the ball was back in the net of Kevin’s stick before he could fully process what happened. Kevin ran past the strikers, but his mark didn’t let him get much further. He was slammed into a wall and the coaches let out warnings from around the court. Both players laughed it out and gave them dismissive gestures.

Nathaniel was ready to go on, but Andrew asked for a time-out. The whole team gathered around him, but he only waited for Nathaniel to come forward to pull him by his jersey. He dragged Nathaniel to behind the goal and gave him the same apathetic look as he always had.

“Quit it.”

Nathaniel shook his head in confusion. “Quit what?”

“You think I’m stupid? Stop holding yourself back. You’re on _my_ team. Quit being afraid of outplaying Riko.”

There was some silence. Nathaniel knew he could try playing the dumb card, but Andrew was more observant than most people—he’d already noticed that. He opted for being defensive instead and said, “When you stop holding _yourself_ back.”

Andrew stared blankly at him. “I’m not.”

“Now who’s the liar? You let Riko score four times against you. I knew how good you were when Riko first tried to recruit you, and I know you’re even better now that Kevin’s on your team. You just want to let Riko _know_ you could defend his shots, but you’re not trying to—”

“Are you not listening? I’m not holding myself back,” Andrew said, slowly, as if he were talking to a little kid. “I don’t care enough for that. Unlike you.”

Nathaniel would have passed his fingers through his hair if he weren’t wearing a helmet. He let out a grunt in frustration then looked towards Riko’s team, where they were gathered in a circle to discuss their strategy. Finally he sighed and said, “I can’t.”

“You’re pathetic. It’s not like Riko can do anything to you that he hasn’t already.”

“Jean,” Nathaniel corrected. “He doesn’t do anything to me.”

Andrew didn’t even blink. “I can think of at least one thing he’s done to you.”

It was a blow to his face, hearing those words; Nathaniel recoiled immediately. He looked at Riko again, then at Kevin, closer, and was unable to hold back his shame. He said, in a hoarse voice, because he couldn’t be the weak one in this conversation, “I’m his boyfriend.”

“Oh, Nate. Insufferable Nate. That means nothing and you know it. I can’t believe you’re going to make _me_ do something about it.” Andrew shook his head in annoyance. “Now you get yourself together and go play like you want to play.”

Nathaniel could have gone the entire day in this conversation, but when Andrew put back on his smile he simply rolled his eyes and turned around to meet the rest of his team. Kevin gave him a pointed look for missing the conference again but Nathaniel wasn’t in the mood to endure Kevin’s single-mindness. He cursed at Kevin and moved to his starting point even before the five minutes were over.

The game ended practically the same: Andrew didn’t try any harder, and neither did Nathaniel. Kevin managed to score two more shots and Riko and Jeremy other two. Riko’s team won only one point, but they all seemed content, giving the nightmare they had faced in goal. Nathaniel refrained from letting out any comments on how Andrew could be even worse if he tried.

The teams went to their locker rooms, but Nathaniel didn’t bother going to the away locker room this time. He moved through the mixture of red and black and took out his gear. He was already in the shower when he remembered he had dressed in the away locker room, and that he was wearing the emergency clothes he usually kept in his locker. Nathaniel let out a curse and stood on the tip of his toes to eye Riko in the stall next to him. Riko gave him a lazy smile and moved to kiss him. Nathaniel allowed it for only a few seconds before announcing he didn’t have any clothes nearby. Riko told him he could borrow his emergency clothes with no problem. Nathaniel thanked him and went back to his shower before he was pulled in for another kiss.

The match had gone for longer than forty-five minutes, so the staff was already serving dinner by the time Nathaniel made his way to beside Riko on their table. The victory seemed to have eased some of Riko’s nerves, because he didn’t make any more comments on Nathaniel’s performance nor put on a show for Kevin. Nathaniel only looked once at table 6 during the whole meal, and found himself surprised at the fact that Andrew wasn’t there. Kevin wasn’t either, but Nathaniel had seen him walk alongside their team nurse with a bottle of vodka in his hands—it had been hidden, of course, but Nathaniel knew where to look.

The music started right after dinner, and Nathaniel let himself be taken to wherever Riko wanted him. He danced and drank the non-alcoholic beverages the ERC was offering and chatted with coaches, just like he had the day before. The Raven formation had dissipated because of ERC’s last night warning about bullying and intimidation and whatever, but Nathaniel saw a few of his teammates talking to other players and he saw the expressions of these players’ faces. Between Jean, Ellie, three other Ravens and the Foxes there was almost a physical brawl, but Wymack intercepted them before the first punch could be thrown. Andrew still hadn’t returned, but Nathaniel figured he was already in the bus, because when Wymack announced that the Foxes were leaving, he didn’t send anyone to look around for their goalie.

By eleven most of the teams had left and Riko had gotten permission from Tetsuji to stop being a host. Riko wrapped a hand around Nathaniel’s wrist and barely even bother to hide his intentions as he dragged him away from the court. They made their way to outside the stadium, then to the door which led to the Nest, and Riko ignored every single Raven player in the living room as he lunched himself at Nathaniel. Ellie, who was watching a movie by herself while the other Ravens drank to forget the entire evening, gave him a look that walked the fine line between disgust and pity. Nathaniel let what he was really feeling show on his face when Riko wasn’t looking and continued his way to his and Riko’s bedroom.

Riko was a bit gentler today, probably because he was tired, and after he lay down beside Nathaniel he didn’t get up. Nathaniel thought of doing the same, but he couldn’t sleep while he didn’t get Riko’s scent out of his body. Showering was something he couldn’t ever keep from doing after he and Riko had sex; and today was no different. Nathaniel moved around the bed in a way that wouldn’t wake Riko up and felt around for his side of the closet. He took his towels and made way for the bathroom. He had already closer the door and was hanging his towel when he realized there was something amid the fabric.

Because of how tired he was, it took him a few extra seconds to figure out in which layer the object was hidden, but finally he unwrapped it completely, and Nathaniel frowned. He knew that knife; it was the same one Andrew had used to threaten Jean at dinner the previous day. Nathaniel couldn’t think of a reason why Andrew would leave him one of his knives.

It only took him another moment to figure it out: a piece of paper had fallen down on the ground. It was ripped from one of Nathaniel’s annotation blocks, the ones he got in the start of the year from Edgar Allen, and it had dozens of ravens around it. Nathaniel figured Andrew had written this down when he disappeared from the banquet.

In shitty calligraphy, Nathaniel could decipher a phone number. Then, with more difficulty, some letters, but finally the message came to light, and Nathaniel’s breath hitched. He read the note, again and again, but now that he had deciphered it, it seemed obvious what it was: a proposal, a threat, a provocation. 

_meet me near riverview park at four on the eighteenth I have a proposal for you don’t show miss out ajm_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my sons i ship them already


	6. 18-7-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i...........know im a shitty person  
> also i decided im not gonna make this super long so?? its probably gonna be abt 15 chapters

The Ravens had only a few valid reasons for skipping practice: either you got yourself injured so badly you were in a hospital and therefore not allowed to leave to go to practice, or you were travelling and had cleared everything with the Master, or you had something important in class (and you could only skip after you’d proven to Riko you weren’t lying).

Nathaniel’s reason for skipping wasn’t any of these and he knew exactly what would come to him once Riko got back to the Nest, but for once— _for once_ —Nathaniel couldn’t bring himself to care. He was a terrible person and whatever he got was certainly not enough to make up for every terrible thing he had done in his life.

Usually he didn’t let himself mope around the Nest and drown himself in self-pity, especially since his upbringing with Mary and Nathan’s people punished him for it, but this was a special occasion. Today was the day Nathaniel Wesninski had officially become a killer.

He could see it perfectly in his head, what would happen if he ever mentioned these feelings to Jean or Ellie; he could see them putting their hand on his shoulder and saying, not too fondly, “You’re not doing anything wrong. These are your survival instincts. This isn’t anyone but the Moriyamas’ fault.” And he could see himself nodding and lying to himself. This was why he hadn’t brought the problem to either of them.

Nathaniel hadn’t always been a planner, but Nathan and Lola had taken care of this fault themselves when he was about twelve years old, and now he’d learned not to do anything impulsive. Maybe this was one of the reasons he felt so shitty about the entire situation. He knew there were other options than he one he’d taken, options that more normal people would have taken and then dealt with the consequences, and that the fact that he had assessed them all and chosen this as his best option were proof of how bad he really was. And the relief that was prevailing over the guilt only added to it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel bad for it, because he did; Nathaniel was no killer and he never thrived to become his father. Though there was something in his heart that couldn’t run away from his origins, killers and torturers and overall people with no honor, he had not yet become them, and he tried the best he could not to. His mother, Mary, feared the way he would, and this fear had passed on to him, but sometimes Nathaniel wished he didn’t feel as much. Wasn’t his father’s lack of feelings the thing that kept him alive for all this time? Nathaniel knew he’d end up dead if he continued to feel bad for every person he had to cross to keep himself alive.

Still, it had been impossible not to seriously consider his other options.

The first of them was to pretend he had never seen a thing. He could get rid of the note and the next time he went outside he’d dump the knife Andrew left him in a trash can on the other side of campus. Nathaniel knew enough from his mother and father on how to make something go away quite neatly, even when he was under surveillance as strict as Riko and the Master’s.

He had considered this option from the moment he went to take a shower to the moment he lied down beside Riko on their bed. It was true; Nathaniel could get rid of the physical evidence without bigger problems. However, he couldn’t not think about all the critiques he’d gotten from Lola over the years. Nathan had put her in charge of giving him a proper education on how to survive in their world, and she had continuously beaten him for his inability to pull off proper lies around the people who controlled him. Though he was great at coming up with half-truths and keeping things from his closest people, when it came to Riko, the person he had grown up with, Nathaniel couldn’t put on a poker face for anything in the entire world.

The second option was to go meet Andrew. Nathaniel had considered it from the moment he read the note to the moment he put down the note. It was a pipe dream, leaving Edgar Allen’s to hear a proposal from the same man who kept Kevin away from the Ravens, and Nathaniel knew better than to dream that high. He knew that Andrew’s proposal probably had something to do with the situation between Nathaniel and Nathaniel and with how easily it could be fixed by Nathaniel leaving.

The idea of walking away from all the drama with the Wesninskis and the Moriyamas left his eyes glowing, but realistically, Nathaniel couldn’t ever get away and live for too long after. Though he had more freedom than the other Ravens and could leave campus only with a vague explanation to the Master, the only reason they granted him this much liberty was because they knew he had no choice but to come back. Nathaniel could easily get away from the Moriyamas’ second branch, but he had once been property of Nathan Wesninski, and if he left, it would be the same as if his father had broken the contract. Being dragged back to Evermore would be the best case scenario when Nathan found him again.

This left Nathaniel’s hands tied. The third option, the one he considered only after assessing the others, was to tell Riko about Andrew’s note. He didn’t want to take it, because he knew what this meant for the Foxes’ goalie—the Moriyamas were still bitter about being stripped off of one of their most profitable assets, and if they ever heard of someone trying to claw another away from them, then they wouldn’t show any mercy. Riko’s rivalry with Andrew would help worsen the way Andrew would die. Knowing how Riko was, however, Nathaniel knew the only way he wouldn’t end up worse than he started was to be honest and then look away from the awfulness his actions would unleash.

He didn't want to take it, but there was no other choice for him. Nathaniel told Riko about the note.

It was now three in the afternoon, and Riko had left a couple hours ago to meet up with some of the Moriyamas’ men. He wouldn’t be there with Andrew because he was too high-profile to get directly involved, but whenever something like this happened, he liked to watch. Riko had offered Nathaniel to come along with him, but thankfully didn’t say anything when Nathaniel refused; maybe he knew just how much Nathaniel could stomach. Still, when he found out his boyfriend had missed practice in order to feel bad for someone he absolutely despised, the punishment wouldn’t come easy.

Nathaniel didn’t let himself wonder what Moriyamas’ men would do to Andrew, afraid he’d end up throwing up again—he hadn’t been able to eat anything all day. The headlines showed up clear in his mind, however; Andrew would be found dead in a ditch by tomorrow. Would the world be shocked? So many people died every day, but this was the first whose death could have been stopped by Nathaniel. He felt sick thinking that Andrew would die unnoticed, but again, his survival instincts told him it was for the best. Keeping things in a low profile was the best way to go around.

It was only one hour until they got to Andrew; the hours passed quickly and loudly. Nathaniel didn’t even realize he was shaking until he actually looked down at his hands and saw it. He didn’t move even when he understood the state he was in. It was best if he didn’t alarm anyone about the situation, both because someone could call the police and stop the kidnapping from happening and because Nathaniel didn’t want anyone to see how weak he actually was. He didn’t even _know_ Andrew.

He curled himself even more on the bed, his face to the door so he wouldn’t see how close he was to Riko’s bed; to his scent, his mark on the pillow, to the memories of everything Nathaniel had let Riko do to him on that bed. More than ever Nathaniel wished he was able to put other before himself, but he had always been a coward and his mother had drilled into him that the best way to stay alive was to watch out for only his own self. Couldn’t she have given him a way to not feel so bad when he did? Nathaniel wondered if she ever needed something similar.

Jumping from the bed in a sudden move, Nathaniel stalked all the way across the bedroom and yanked at Kevin’s old clock on the wall. It had been bothering him for hours, now; the ticking of the clock-hands driving him crazy. He didn’t even think about the consequences of throwing a fit as he threw the object on the ground and continuously stepped on it, until he couldn’t hear the ticking. He was wearing a sock, but he cut himself anyway. Nathaniel didn’t mind the blood and went back to curling himself on the bed.

Had they gotten to him already? Nathaniel knew that Andrew had a rough past. He wondered whether Riko had dug into it and was planning on using Andrew’s biggest fears, the same way he did with the Ravens. It was hard to imagine someone as apathetic as Andrew losing complete control as he was tortured, but Nathaniel had seen the most composed of men go completely insane under his father’s or Lola’s or Romero’s hands. He shuddered as he recreated images of the terrible things he’d witnessed during the weekends under his father’s care.

Nathaniel was such a shitty person.

Without thinking about it, he rolled around the mattress until his hands were able to fumble through his things on the nightstand. It took him a while, but he finally found his phone and prepared an email to be sent at four sharp. He wrote it and deleted it, then wrote it again and deleted it again. Finally he decided the sharpest the better; Andrew wouldn’t be coming back to answer it, anyway. “I’m sorry.”

In less than an hour, Andrew would be waiting for him at a park, willing to help him out the same way he did Kevin, putting his own life at risk, and he wouldn’t see the Moriyamas’ men coming. In less than an hour, Andrew Minyard would be as good as dead, and Nathaniel Wesninski would officially become his father’s son.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Sorry didn’t begin to cover it.


	7. 02-08-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> language makes pretty explicit what happened to andrew so heads up!  
> i didn't beta this at all but its 4am and tomorrow i won't have the patience either

Nathaniel looked into the darkness of the trees, squinting as though he could see anything in a moonless night like this. His phone light shone bright in complete blackness, but he could only see as far as the start of the tree line. He was nervous; Nathaniel had never been afraid of the dark, but this was a place he wasn’t familiar with, and there was no way of knowing what to expect. The biggest indication of his jitteriness was that his light could not lighten the same thing for more than a few seconds, his hands unable to remain still with how loud his heartbeat was.

The night was cold enough that he could see clouds of steam as he breathed. The cab had dropped him off in the outskirts of this forest, not daring to go into the narrow, beaten down dirt path that ended in the glade he’d been instructed to wait in. The note didn’t have a name, but he knew; and because he knew, he had to go. He didn’t think there was anything fairer than that.

Two weeks since the abduction and twelve days since Kevin had broken Andrew out from Riko’s hands, and Nathaniel’s guilt had been eating him alive. He hadn’t heard anything from either of them since; in fact, Nathaniel only knew that the two had made it out of the house Riko had rented just outside the city because Riko had come back to Evermore throwing a tantrum. Wymack had announced the Foxes would stay out of the practice matches that would be happening that month, and refused to answer any questions about the matter.

Nathaniel’s stomach had clenched at hearing the news. He’d thought about asking Jean to get news about it from Renee, since they had been texting since the banquet, but after thinking it through, thought it was best if he didn’t. He was afraid Renee would figure out it was him who was asking; him who was worried. Nathaniel didn’t think he had the right to be worried about Andrew after he had handed him to his psychopathic boyfriend the moment Andrew trusted him.

He sat down on the grass because his right leg couldn’t support him for too long in the same position. Nathaniel considered sprawling over the leaves, but he didn’t want to be so vulnerable if someone arrived before he had regathered his composure. Nathaniel had arrived earlier than the time the meeting was scheduled for, primarily because he didn’t want to keep Andrew waiting, but also because it was his instinct as the butcher’s son. He knew how to scout an area in seconds if need be, but Romero had taught him to always save up all the minutes he could to make sure there weren’t any traps. Nathaniel didn’t really think Andrew would bother, but there was so much restlessness in him that it was impossible to fight the instinct.

Checking his wrist watch, he saw that it was only a few minutes more until Andrew arrived. He couldn’t hear any cars nearby, but that was no indication; the glade was far enough off the main road that he wouldn’t be able to listen to anything out there. Where he was there was only the sound of his own breathing, and of his phone’s processor, and of the forest around him.

It didn’t help that he was amidst all this nature—memories came flooding in despite his best efforts any time he was pushed so hard by his triggers. Sitting on a glade the way he was, so far from the city that he could actually see the stars, Nathaniel couldn’t help but remembering the safe house he and his mother were sent off to whenever Nathan wanted them out of the radar. Nathaniel was too little back then to really grasp details, but still, as he looked around, he could imagine the big mansion built in the middle of nowhere, with a purpose much like the one Andrew had chosen by asking Nathaniel to meet him here; this place was discrete and completely out of the police’s area of surveillance.

Nathaniel forced himself into the place he’d grown used to since Mary died. It was a place so small inside his own mind that he couldn’t help but crouch and wrap his arms around himself. It was so tight he could barely think—much less reminisce. Nathaniel hated being forced into these situations, but he figured it was better that he was able to block everything away than remember, remember, remember, and be out of control. He needed control. Tonight, especially, he _needed_ it. There was no way he’d survive looking Andrew in the eye if he didn’t get himself together.

The pill he’d taken for his pain finally started working. Nathaniel was used to aching all over and moving on with his life as if he weren’t hurting at all, but it would have been a fool’s mistake to think he could afford showing vulnerability in a meeting like this. Besides, Nathaniel only walked around in pain because he wasn’t allowed to take medication. Now that he was outside campus, which was a rarity in itself, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get rid of _some_ of the pain he’d been on since he’d tipped Kevin off two weeks before.

At first Riko hadn’t known how Nathaniel felt about this entire situation. As a matter of fact, when Riko had come back to Evermore and started throwing things around and breaking his players in the most sadistic ways he knew, Nathaniel had been his rock. At night, when Riko couldn’t stop shaking from his anger and because he had gotten a beating from Tetsuji, too, for being reckless and not taking enough precautions, Riko had crawled into bed with Nathaniel and hid his head in the crook of his neck. Nathaniel had written off his rapid heartbeat as worry for Riko’s safety; and there hadn’t been enough insubordination before that Riko doubted him.

However, the guilt showed in Nathaniel all over. Nathaniel wasn’t as quick to respond to conversation, even with the rest of the Ravens, who knew him to have a sharp tongue, because he was always thinking about how much of a horrible person he was; he couldn’t look Riko in the eye without wanting to vomit, because he kept imagining over and over again everything Riko had his people do to Andrew; and he couldn’t play, because his hands shook too much. Riko only acted out because in one of the practices Nathaniel went to pass the ball to him and ended up hitting the wall—and when he’d been asked to get his shit together, he’d choked up. Not even fucking had gotten him away from Riko’s fury this time, when finally he realized—Nathaniel was a mess inside and outside. Even now, he couldn’t walk without limping, thanks to a particularly hard blow Riko had taken with a racquet on his thigh. The team nurse had said there were no bones had been broken, but that many had come close to it.

He wondered what would be of him the day Riko discovered he had been the one to tip Kevin off about Andrew’s location. Nathaniel didn’t think Riko’s romantic feelings for him were that strong.

Pain subsided, Nathaniel got up from the grass and cleaned off his clothes as if he hadn’t just been sitting around waiting. He crossed his arms and made sure to look impatient, even though he didn’t really mind if Andrew was late, because it wasn’t in his rights to mind. His watch beeped, signaling the change of hour; his phone vibrated in his hands from the alarm he’d configured to this time.

It didn’t take another minute for the silence to be overridden by the sounds of steps and leaves being stepped on; closer and closer in a slow, steady pace. Nathaniel braced himself for the violence of Andrew Minyard, who had been put in juvie and forced to take medications, but the steps stopped before reaching him and there were no other sounds but of the forest. Nathaniel didn’t even hear his own breathing—he didn’t think he _was_ breathing.

Slowly, _slowly_ , he turned around and fixed his flashlight on a silhouette close to the tree line.

Andrew.

Or, what looked at lot like Andrew, except bent down and covered in gauze. His black clothes hid most of the bandages, but the bumps forming under it weren’t subtle enough that Nathaniel didn’t notice them in the first five seconds of his assessment. Andrew wasn’t much in his normal days, five feet tall and short blonde hair, but now Nathaniel looked at him and had to keep himself from retching. He knew Andrew’s spine couldn’t really be all that damaged or he wouldn’t be walking around and giving his best attempt at an intimidating stance, but still, Andrew was leaned over himself, his chin high but his back in a curve forward. This was the only thing that proved Nathaniel right on his assumptions; Riko had used everything he’d found when digging into Andrew’s past. And his _face._

Andrew had taken off the bandages on his face surely sooner than he was supposed to, maybe because they were terrible to have on your face or because he wanted Nathaniel to know exactly the extent of what had been done to him. Nathaniel didn’t know Andrew that much, but he guessed it was a mixture of the two. And really, it worked. Nathaniel focused his light on Andrew’s face and had to look away not long after. His mouth tasted acid and the voice in his head whispered, _this is your fault, your fault, your fault_.

What he was feeling must have been showing on his face, but Andrew asked, in a lethargic tone different from his usual medicine-induced frenzy, “Admiring your boyfriend’s work?”

Nathaniel dropped all pretenses. He turned around despite the pain on his leg not completely gone yet, gave two hesitating steps towards the opposite tree line, and dry-heaved into the grass below him. His whole body shook with the effort, and for a moment he was afraid his legs would give out and he’d lie there until Andrew decided to either help him up or beat him up the way he deserved. But his legs didn’t give out. Instead, after his own body realized there was nothing else left in his stomach, Nathaniel turned back to Andrew and willingly went to his knees.

“I’m sorry— ” He said, then stopped. He was sweating even though his body trembled with cold, and he felt light-headed. Nathaniel started retching some more, until his lungs went out of breath and retching turned into choking. He put a hand to the ground and the other to around his neck, as if it would help putting back oxygen into his body. Andrew watched all of this with an unamused expression.

It must have been minutes until Nathaniel trusted himself to speak again. He said, his head turned to the ground in shame and a whimpering tone to his voice, “I’m sorry, Andrew. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He said it as if it was a mantra.

Andrew said, looking unimpressed as he fished a cigarette from his back pocket, “I don’t like that word, ‘please’.”

Nathaniel shut up. The world was a very, very tense place right at that moment.

“What I don’t get,” Andrew started, “is why you’d do all this to save yourself, and then tell Kevin where I am. Risk the cops investigating the Moriyamas’ and your daddy’s businesses after you gave me up to die.”

“Because I’ve tolerated beatings my whole life. I know what it’s like to live with that. And I know that Riko wouldn’t do anything he couldn’t back out of—even your death. I thought he’d beat you up and make it seem like you’d been robbed. But then while he was away I found something in the computer that—And I knew that he’d use that to mess with your head—and I could live with your death, but I couldn’t live with being the reason someone would—”

“Ah. The man has a noble heart, after all,” Andrew said, but his tone lacked sarcasm; it was only dry and scornful. “So you’ll let daddy beat me but you won’t let one of his bitches fuck me until ‘please’ is the only world I know. Sounds inconsistent, if you ask me.”

“I thought—maybe Kevin would have gotten there on time—”

“Well, he didn’t. Not even close. Until he could actually get off his ass and do something about it, I’d forgotten my own name. Riko might be good at landing his fists on you people’s faces but he knows better than to torture me himself. I guess he pulled some strings and asked for father dearest’s best mercenary or whatever the butcher labels himself as these days. It’s kind of amusing, don’t you think? I certainly laughed my way through it all. I mean, until withdrawal hit and I started begging.”

The only reason Nathaniel didn’t throw up again was because there was nothing else in his stomach. The tears forming up on his eyes didn’t stream down his face out of sheer stubbornness. He couldn’t find it in him to look Andrew in the eye. Not after he’d been the one to deliver Andrew into the Moriyamas’ hands. It would have been bad if he died, but now that Nathaniel knew exactly what they had done to him…

Andrew took his cigarette to his lips and then took from his other pocket his lighter. He stared at the flame for a while before lighting up the cigarette. He took a deep drag and then looked back at Nathaniel. Finally, his feet started moving from the tree line and he stopped a few feet away from where Nathaniel still was on his knees. Nathaniel thought this was it, that Andrew was preparing to hit him now, but Andrew merely stood there until Nathaniel looked up.

“You want a cigarette?” Andrew asked.

Nathaniel blinked. He couldn’t have said anything even if he tried.

Andrew took his silence as a no. He tucked the lighter back into his pocket and stood there, smoking, for another few minutes. In Nathaniel’s head, it could have been hours and he wouldn’t have noticed. All he saw were the images in his head. He couldn’t even bring himself to being outraged that his father would do something like this—not yet, anyway. His body shook again, but not with fear. This was shock, and disgust, and guilt.

The cigarette was almost entirely burned out by the time Andrew tossed it to the ground and put it out with his foot. He sighed, combed his fingers through his hair, and gestured for Nathaniel to get up.

He said, “I’ve done bad shit to keep me and mine safe, too.”

It was not what Nathaniel expected him to say. He stood up, only because he didn’t know what to do other than what he had been told to. He still didn’t look deep into Andrew’s eyes, but as he stood in front of him, Nathaniel bit on his lips and forced his eyes to stay off the ground. He shifted his way so that most of it was on his good leg in what should have been a subtle way, but Andrew was just as good at analyzing body language as him. Andrew’s eyes fell to Nathaniel’s right leg and he squinted as though he could see the injury.

Because Andrew didn’t say anything, Nathaniel felt he should. He said, “You didn’t really think I’d go unpunished for showing any emotion towards you.”

Andrew ignored his words and shot a question back instead, “Did Riko find out you were the one who called Kevin?”

“You actually think I’d be standing here if he did?”

“No, I guess not.”

Neil started to shrug, but he stopped before he could finish his actions. He didn’t have it in him to be smug about anything when facing Andrew. Even if he tried for a façade, his own body betrayed him. Riko’s beating had been the hardest he’d even given Nathaniel, but even his swings with the racquet were overpowered by what his mind was doing.

Paranoia had been something he’d inherited from his mother’s side of the family, but he had learned to be cautious only after many years with Lola as his tutor. When he was sure Riko wouldn’t be coming back to their dorm two weeks ago after taking Andrew into that warehouse, Nathaniel had gone through Riko’s computer and read every file he had on Andrew. It was hard seeing reports and hearsay from Andrew’s time in foster homes, but it had been the thing to save Andrew’s life. Nathaniel barely wasted time to erase his traces in Riko’s computer before telling Tetsuji he had a last-minute appointment with his father’s people. Nathaniel ran out of Edgar Allan’s campus with only his wallet and phone and dialed Kevin’s number from a payphone that wasn’t nearby enough for the Moriyamas to suspect it was him but not too far that he felt he’d wasted time. By then Andrew had already been held captive for two days, but giving Riko still hadn’t come back, Nathaniel had figured it meant Andrew was alive. He’d whispered the address to Kevin before Kevin could say anything, and by the time he was being asked for explanations, Nathaniel was already calling for a cab.

He had driven up to one of Nathan’s safe houses inside the city, purposefully picking one he knew wasn’t guarded this time of year, and squatted there for two days, the usual amount of time he stayed away from campus when he was with Lola. He’d spent the entire two days retching and drinking water and retching some more, and he’d been so out of it from hunger by the third day that he’d been forced to take the bus—he was strictly forbidden from taking cabs from anywhere close to the safe houses.

When he arrived back at Edgar Allan Riko was throwing a tantrum. Jean, Ellie and a few other Ravens were nowhere to be seen, but when Nathaniel passed by the nurse’s office, her door had been closed and the blinds shut. He walked into his dorm room to find chaos, clocks and computers and portraits broken all over the floor, but he’d forced himself to act as relaxed as he usually was after his sessions with Lola. Nathaniel could still taste Riko’s blood on his mouth from when he kissed him to calm down Riko’s temper, but now, after seeing Andrew’s state even after two weeks of healing, he figured it had all been worth it.

Nathaniel offered, “He said he _got me_. That I’m too sensitive with even people who don’t deserve it. Then he said it’s not just because I’m a sweetheart that I should go unpunished for delaying the team at practice.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t let him fuck you into oblivion instead of taking a beat. Seems more like your ammo.”

“Are you really going to judge me?” Nathaniel asked. “You’d rather stay at a home with Drake than give your sweet foster mom Cass up. If you think me taking dick to prevent a beating on myself and my friends is that much different, you can go fuck yourself.”

Nathaniel didn’t know what he expected as a response to that mean comment, but it certainly wasn’t Andrew’s half-surprised expression. There was a beat of silence again before Andrew said, “I guess you do have a spine after all. That’s good, because Kevin hasn’t got any and I’m tired of hearing him whining.

“Now here’s the deal, Nate. Kevin-boy and I have an agreement, and that agreement is about to be broken because of you. Your dad’s buddy was about to have his turn with me when Kevin, Wymack and Renee stormed in, you see? So now they all know what really happened to me. And they think it’s oh-so-wrong, so they’re letting me off my meds. It’s not like I care all that much, but now Kev is going to be all alone. Renee’s got a lot on her plate as it is, and she can’t take in him and my family, as well. So, you see, we find ourselves in an impasse.”

Nathaniel pushed himself the rest of the distance between him and Andrew. He made himself even smaller in that place inside his mind so that he wouldn’t think about Andrew in that warehouse with his father’s people, and the blankness that was already on his face translated itself to his entire body. His shoulders stiffened and he stood straighter, and his hands gradually stopped shaking. Nathaniel’s chin went up even if he still couldn’t bring himself to stare into Andrew’s golden eyes. “What do you want from me?”

Andrew put two fingers up. “Two things. One because you owe me, two because somewhere inside that hollow mind of yours, you want to get out of Riko’s claws. Take note,” he said, putting one finger down, “I want you to make sure Kevin’s safe while I’m gone. I’m only going to be gone for a month and a half but you’re going to do everything you can to keep Riko’s mind off of Kevin during that time. After you can go back to pretending Kevin doesn’t exist.”

Nathaniel blinked. “Do you actually care for Kevin?”

Andrew ignored him and put the other finger down. “You’re going to take my knife and you’re going to put it under your pillow. I’m going away tomorrow but I’m going to teach you the basics so you can actually do something the next time Riko pulls his dick out.”

Looking at Andrew up and down, it was hard to take seriously any threat coming from him. Apart from the bruising all over, Nathaniel had a good five inches on Andrew and his overall body strength seemed more useful than Andrew’s buffered arms. Lola had taught him enough of different types of fighting for Nathaniel to know, however, that your opponent’s size didn’t matter all that much if they knew what they were doing. Nathaniel took a staggering step back and then wished he hadn’t when a wicked smile forced on the corners of Andrew’s mouth.

“I know how to defend myself.”

Andrew tsked. “You let me decide that.”

“I’m the Butcher’s son. I’ve been trained to be stealthy and offensive since before you could ask for mommy. If I wanted to defend myself, I could.”

It took Andrew a minute to process that. Then he threw his head back in exaggerated laugher and said, wiping fake tears from his eyes, “Oh, so you’re not an incompetent idiot, you’re a _martyr._ Oh. Oh. You just might be more interesting than I thought, Nate.”

“I’m glad I’m good entertainment.”

“Certainly,” Andrew grinned. Nathaniel thought he’d say something else right away, but instead Andrew took the remaining steps close to Nathaniel and got their faces so close they could sense each other’s breaths over their lips. Nathaniel thought of pushing him away when he remembered reading in Riko’s research Andrew didn’t like to be touched. After everything that had happened he figured respecting it was the least he could do. “Don’t try to be smart with me again, Nate. I fell for it once but I won’t fall for it twice. You did what you had to do to survive but remember I’d do the same, and I wouldn’t regret it. Keep your end of our agreement and I’ll keep mine. Don’t, and I’ll know when I get back. And I’ve been told sober me isn’t nearly as fun as me on medication.”

Nathaniel was about to make another sarcastic retort, but Andrew turned around before he could push the words out of his lips. Nathaniel only noticed Andrew was leaving when he was already too far away, and Andrew took advantage of Nathaniel’s limp and sprinted towards the tree line too fast. The light of Nathaniel’s phone was still on, but even as Andrew walked into the darkness of the forest, it didn’t do much. Andrew was gone before he’d been able to take five steps.

He stood in the glade for minutes before he heard the faint sound of a car engine on the other side of the tree line. His leg hurt again, thanks to putting his weight over it for too many minutes, and his back pain was a continuous problem despite how straight he stood. Slowly, Nathaniel worked on crawling out of that tiny cage in his mind and let himself breathe, raggedly and with an acrid smell. The noise of the car had already died down when Nathaniel realized Andrew hadn’t said what his part of the agreement was.


	8. 04-08-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finished this and thought it was too Extra but then i realized nothing is more extra than canon tfc
> 
> cw: heavy descriptions of violence!! not as hard as w neil and lola in the books but nasty either way

Nathaniel saw the racquet only a moment too late. By the time he turned around to stare back at Ellie, who had dragged him to the locker room in the pretense of needing some help with her new gear, she had already locked the door behind her. A sudden string of fear passed through his body, increasing gradually as he took in the situation. It was not every day that a player from Riko’s inner circle had a lesson with the master. Tetsuji usually handled newcomers and incompetent athletes slowing the Ravens down during practices, but the perfect four were too disciplined and versatile to need his attention. Besides, Nathaniel had learned a few years back that Riko requested to deliver them their punishments himself if need be. Nathaniel didn’t know what could have happened that made Tetsuji want to handle him personally, but he felt his body cooling from head to toe. He must have been blue by the time he turned back, because Tetsuji let out a sharp laugh. The sound was horrible and made Nathaniel want to flinch. He concentrated all his efforts in not doing it.

“Wesninski,” the Master said in lieu of greeting, his voice calm and collected. “Calm yourself down. If you give me all the right answers, there will be no need to punish you. You know I’m far more reasonable than my nephew at tense times like these.”

Nathaniel nearly choked up, but he forced himself to say, “Of course, Master.”

The tone of his voice didn’t betray how nervous he really was feeling, but he didn’t congratulate himself for it. Usually when he was with Riko it was pointless to hide his true feelings; the two of them had grown up together and Riko was convinced he was in love with Nathaniel. There was nothing about Nathaniel that Riko didn’t understand, at least in its shallowest depths. With the Master, things were different. While they were all growing up, Tetsuji hired tutors and only had the time to look after one infant, and he had understandingly chosen his nephew. The Master treated Nathaniel and Jean like he did all other Ravens—and he expected the same level of impartiality. Nathaniel could recall the times when he, at age ten, had taken beatings for giving signs of affection towards Tetsuji. Now, to remain blank-faced in his presence was something he and Jean had ingrained on themselves.

Still, on the inside, Nathaniel felt like he was seconds from falling apart. He kept seeing himself speak to Andrew at that glade. He knew it wasn’t impossible Tetsuji found out where he’d been and who he’d been with. Nathaniel knew what he was and even the second Moriyama branch was professional enough to track down their assets. He had gone to that glade knowing fully well he could be made by merely a phone call to his father, but he had hoped he wouldn’t be.

Judging by the look in Tetsuji’s face, however, that was exactly what happened. His body was rigid and his expression almost blank, save by a pull on the corner of his lip that Nathaniel had learned to identify after twelve years: scorn. The Master’s fine wooden cane was forgotten in a corner near the door, replaced by one of Nathaniel’s heavies. His fingers were skidding through the deep red net and his weight was clearly depending on the stick. His posture was half-casual, half-offensive, as if he were assessing the need to attack.

“Now, you know I don’t usually speak to your father, as I know he has other things to do besides tending for his son’s schedule, but yesterday night I got a rather accusatory phone call from one of your tutors saying we were keeping your leash too lose,” he said. “I didn’t understand, obviously, because we’ve been keeping the agreement same as always.”

Nathaniel felt his stomach drop to the floor. He put a hand over his mouth despite the master, the pressure helping ease his gag reflex. It took everything in him not to saw from side to side.

He was eight when he was first introduced to the Exy-inclined branch of the Moriyamas. He’d bene playing in little leagues for a while as defense and Tetsuji had taken interest in him as a striker. His father, Nathan, had little choice but to let his son into evermore, despite his wife’s incessant protests, but had not let him go easy like the rest of Tetsuji’s kids. It was less that Nathan cared about his son than he needed someone to mark as the Butcher’s heir. He argued that Nathaniel’s Exy career wouldn’t last forever and by the time he retired there wouldn’t be enough time to train him accordingly to take over Nathan’s business. By the end of negotiations it had been established Nathaniel would live at Evermore same as the rest of Tetsuji’s children but that from time to time he’d be let out for training sessions with his assigned tutors, Lola, Romero and Karen.

Eventually it came to be that Nathaniel didn’t leave only for training purposes as a fighter—a killer—but also as a businessman. At least once a month he’d be pulled from Edgar Allan for a lesson. Even more rarely Nathan himself showed up at the pickup spot and brought Nathaniel along to one of his missions as the Butcher. Nathaniel had never been asked to assist on the killings, but in his eighteen years of life he’d seen more people break than he could count on his fingers and toes.

The arrangement had bene going for long enough that merely a notice from Nathaniel himself was enough for Tetsuji to let him out of campus. There was no need for the Butcher to explain himself or his pans with his son and therefore no reason for him and the Master to speak. If there had been a breach in their self-imposed protocol, the master was right to be weary and mad.

Still, Nathaniel couldn’t believe his lack of luck. He knew his father’s men often ran checks on his location, but he had taken extra caution when leaving campus. He had disguised himself and even put on his fake brown lenses. Nathaniel was popular enough as a Raven to have the numbers of a handful more students besides his teammates and two nights ago he’d found purpose for them. He called every girl who’d ever given him their phone number until he found one that was willing to go out with him immediately. It hadn’t taken very long to find one, and her name was Cynthia. She was a giggly girl with huge breasts and an impressive amount to knowledge about Exy, but Nathaniel couldn’t care about her even as she rambled on about the one thing that could keep his attention. They’d taken a cab to the restaurant because Nathaniel rarely used his car to meet Lola at their pickup spot and he didn’t want to do something different, and he had feigned sickness as soon as they got there. He didn’t care how much of a dick he seemed and left Cynthia alone at the restaurant to go meet Andrew in that glade. It was disappointing to know he’d gone to all that trouble for nothing.

Tetsuji moved to lean on a wall closer to Nathaniel. “Imagine my surprise,” he said, “when she said you left campus without us knowing. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m fairly certain you did come by my office and said you had a last-minute assignment with your father and had to leave for a few hours. I told her about this and she laughed at my face. Then I called your father to clear things up. Turns out not only did you not go to meet him, but you were seen taken a cab to somewhere outside the city and then another one back here looking rather ill. I wonder who you went to see at that little place.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but Nathaniel heard one anyway. The world titled sideway a little. Forever passed before the words left his lips. He started, “I didn’t—” and then he stopped, because he knew Tetsuji would never buy into that lie.

Then he braced himself for punishment and gave him another; one that broke the rules all the same but wasn’t nearly as treacherous as the truth. “I went to see a girl. Cynthia Ives. She’s a sophomore here. She’s majoring in poli-sci,” he said, then gave a startled step forward, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Please don’t tell Riko.”

The Master rolled his eyes. “Spare me the fake tears. You offend me by acting as though I don’t know the true nature of your feelings for my nephew,” he spat, but his face looked the same as before. “This girl. Are you in love with her?”

Nathaniel shook his head frantically. “No, Master. We met at the cafeteria during one of my free periods. I won’t deny I have strong feelings for her but she and I don’t have anything serious. It is mostly just sex.”

With this, Tetsuji lifted one brow. “Are you not getting enough from my nephew? As far as I’m concerned you to have been keeping some of my players from sleeping at night. If that is not enough for you I’m sure you could find teammates that are inclined to help you with this problem,” he said, and tapped the racquet once on the floor. “I don’t understand why you would defy yet another one of my rules for a girl you’re not even sure you have feelings for.”

Nathaniel could argue that he just said he had feelings for her, but he realized it would only worsen things as soon as he took a breath to let the words out. The reason Tetsuji allowed the Ravens to take their frustration out on frantic sex was because it didn’t mean anything to them other than a means to an end. It was obvious that he still resented Nathaniel and Riko’s affective relationship from the expression on his face.

Nathaniel didn’t know how to move on from that point in conversation, so he looked down and hoped he hadn’t angered Tetsuji enough to earn a beating that would leave him limping even more. His injuries from Riko’s last beating were getting better thanks to the team nurse’s cares—Riko had allowed him to go after he had complained about the pain, deliberately right after a round of fucking that had let Riko in a happier mood—but it was way too soon for him to take another hit. He eyed the heavy in Tetsuji’s hands warily. He knew he would be expected to play no matter the extent of his injuries, but even he had a limit.

From closer than he was before, Tetsuji sighed. “I really did hope you would give me the right answers, Nathaniel. I’m not Riko; I don’t take pleasure in doing this. But measures must be taking, and my nephew obviously hasn’t been able to keep you in check.”

He braced himself for the pain, but Tetsuji hit very differently from Riko. Where Riko liked to taunt and irritate and take his victims into breaking point by slapping and pulling and laughing, Tetsuji preferred to be objective, to get the players to flinch and tremble and beg. The racquet was a heavy but it didn’t slow the Master down in the slightest; Nathaniel could barely put his hands up to protect his face before it hit him across the wrists, in his most fragile bones. A screech left his lips even though he tried to be quiet about his pain. It felt like his hands were close to dropping from his wrists.

Tetsuji hissed, annoyed that he hadn’t hit his target, and he wrapped his free hand around Nathaniel’s wrist and forced his hands down. His fingernails pressed against the aching spots of the Nathaniel’s wrists so hard that blood dripped down from the marks. He lifted the heavy again and it hit right through Nathaniel’s cheekbone, catching some of his teeth. Nathaniel passed the tip of his tongue across each of them to make sure none had broken or fell from his gums. Thankfully, he still had all of his teeth safe.

It was suddenly one year ago and he was in the dorms with Jean on his side as the two of them guarded the door and watched in horror as Riko broke Kevin’s hand. Would the Master break one of his hands, too? He had chastised Riko for ruining the chances of their second player ever playing again, but if he didn’t break something crucial for Nathaniel’s performance in Exy, there was nothing stopping him from doing so with another bone.

The panic that Nathaniel had been pushing away struck completely and he started panting when he hit the ground, feeling his blood running down his cheeks. The Master had struck him with the part of the heavy that was most damaging. He held himself on all fours and looked at his hands on the ground, to make sure they were still there. He could barely acknowledge Tetsuji in front of him—all he felt was the ringing in his ears and his cheekbones and wrists on fire. Nathaniel thought to beg for mercy, but he knew just how much Tetsuji hated when people begged. He kept silent, obedient; the way Tetsuji liked the most.

The Master took him by his hair and forced him up again. Nathaniel’s eyes were filled with tears and his nose, with snot. He didn’t think to feel humiliated; he was suddenly stricken with anger, because he didn’t deserve this. He put his hands behind his back because he didn’t want Tetsuji seeing them curled in fists. Anger would get him nowhere but on the Master’s wrong side. His eyes stared into the Master’s dark ones and he saw that the man’s expression had remained the same, like he was sullen about having to take time off his schedule to do this; like he was bored of this already.

Rough hands pulled on the hem of Nathaniel’s shirt and instantly Nathaniel’s hands flew up. He knew what Tetsuji was doing—he rarely hit where people could see. His shirt was off before he could fully process it, and then the heavy hit on his exposed ribs, again and again until the pain on his middle was the only thing he felt. Tetsuji took a step back when Nathaniel’s gag reflex kicked in, sneering.

“Don’t,” the Master threatened with his eyes wide. It was the first show of the anger he was feeling. Nathaniel put his hand over his mouth and forced himself not to vomit. He was almost giving into the pain completely, black spots around his vision that meant he wasn’t going to last much longer. It was a good sign—the beating would stop as soon he passed out.

Once his gag reflex had been controlled, Tetsuji stepped back closer and cornered Nathaniel into a wall. Then, he took his shoulders roughly and turned him around, so that his back was exposed. It hurt to stand straight the way the Master was holding him, but Nathaniel didn’t have the courage to break free from the hold and curl around himself. He waited for the next series of blows, but same as the last time, expecting it didn’t help one bit. Tetsuji had a good angle and the force of his hits had increased even more now that he had lost composure.

The edge of the heavy hit first on his shoulder blades and Nathaniel heard a pop sound among his screams. Then, Tetsuji changed his grip on the racquet and started hitting it horizontally, the same way Riko had hit his legs two weeks ago. Nathaniel was sure he’d have the stripe marks on his back for an even longer time than he had on his thighs. One particular hard blow between his shoulders made him let out a loud, hoarse scream that left his throat hurting. Nathaniel swayed under Tetsuji’s grip even if he was forcing himself to stand straight. His eyes were feeling heavy—he was too close to the breaking point.

Tetsuji let go of him entirely. “I know you went to meet with Andrew Minyard. Riko knows, too. I only hope you didn’t say anything that could compromise us, Nathaniel. I’m vindictive and so is my nephew, but—think of what your father would do if he found out you sang,” he sighed.

Nathaniel was still facing the wall, but he could hear when the Tetsuji dropped the heavy on the floor and limped to his cane. His footsteps were slow and heavy, as if he were said. Then he went over the door and unlocked it. Just before he left the room, the Master murmured, “Why do you boys make me do this to you?”

 

* * *

 

 

Nathaniel wasn’t allowed sleep even after the beating. He never actually passed out after it, only swayed as Ellie came back with a swollen face from crying, Jean on her side. The two of them carried Nathaniel to the infirmary, silent. They didn’t have anything to say to him—Ellie knew what would happen when he lured Nathaniel into the locker room and Jean was well aware there wasn’t anything he could say that would comfort his former partner at a time like this.

When they got to the infirmary, Nathaniel’s eyes had glowed in the face of a soft mattress. He wanted to lie down and never get up again. In fact, right at that moment, he wanted to lie down and die. He was drowning in self-pity—he couldn’t remember why he went into that glade with Andrew in the first place, and he was suddenly struck with the urge to go to Riko and tell him Andrew was out of town and had left Kevin vulnerable at Palmetto. Then he realized doing that wouldn’t hurt only Andrew. Kevin was a friend of his, once, and he didn’t have anything to do with this. That calmed him down enough to look at the situation more reasonably. He had just taken a great beating from Tetsuji, but he had taken worse. The image of Andrew curved in that glade came to his mind. Two weeks ago Andrew had dealt with the worse there was because he had offered his help, and Nathaniel figured he wasn’t in his rights to complain.

Then, as he moved to accommodate himself on the bed—on his side, because it hurt too much otherwise—he spotted Riko sitting on a chair on the corner of the room. He was talking to the nurse and doctor, Gabriel and Natalie, but his eyes were fixed on Nathaniel. He had a smile on his lips.

Slowly, Riko got up and put on a mask of concerned boyfriend. He ran to Nathaniel’s side and hugged him as hard as he could. When Nathaniel unavoidably screamed, Riko let him down in a lethargic motion and said, drowsily, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry!” And then the smile was back on his face. He was clearly having a good time mocking Nathaniel.

From behind him, Ellie’s expression tightened. Nathaniel saw Jean put his arm around her middle to calm her down. The two of them looked at the door, then, wondering if they should leave. Nathaniel shook his head, afraid of what Riko would do if they were alone with only the doctors. There was a reason they were paid a fortune—no secrets from Evermore would ever be spilling from their mouths.

But Riko said, “You two can go,” and there was nothing they could do.

Riko motioned for the two doctors to come tend for Nathaniel but he didn’t move from his spot beside the bed. Nathaniel was actually surprised he didn’t take another beating. There was silence in the room for a while, but after Gabriel made sure he didn’t have a punctured lung, he settled on taking care of the cuts and jabbed skin from the blows. Nathaniel’s whines filled the infirmary and Riko, mockingly, took his hand and cooed him gently. The pain was excruciating even with the medication, and he was trembling, but he made himself remain as still as possible so that Gabriel and Natalie could work.

Finally, Gabriel finished his work and Natalie sat down on a stool beside Riko and started going through breathing exercises for his cracked ribs. Nathaniel thought he looked stupid doing them, but he repeated the motions anyway, knowing the faster he healed, the better—Gabriel had tried telling him to be on the bench for at least a couple of games a few minutes ago, but Riko had snarled and said that was not an option. Gabriel had been working with the Ravens for long enough to know there was no point of arguing.

As Nathaniel moved on to another exercise, Riko got up from where he was kneeling on the ground, went to close the door and pulled a stool beside Natalie. The smile that was back on his face made Nathaniel’s stomach churn, even more so when Riko reached for his hand and flicked the scabs on his wrists.

Riko said, gently, “I wonder what you went seeing him for. I mean—he did offer to take you away from Evermore, but you came back. Maybe he was mad at you and changed his mind? Except that if he were mad, I don’t think you would have gone in the first place. Either way,” he said, with a hum, “I think it’s past time I put you in check. You’re a sweet boy, Nate, I get it. You wanna know why I think you went? Because you felt guilty for telling on him.”

He went on, “But I told you before that Evermore isn't the place for sweet boys. You’re either with me or you’re against me. And going out of your way to meet with _him_ —” Riko hissed. “You two need to be punished. The master’s beating was for making a fool out of him in your father’s watch—but he forgets that you went to the one person who keeps taking, and taking, and taking from me. I won’t allow it.”

“Riko—”

“You, I can find ways to punish quite easily. You have blatant weaknesses. Maybe I’ll call for Jean and Ellie once we’re done here. I keep remembering your face when you found out about Andrew and Drake—maybe I’ll send them around the other Ravens’ dorms again. You never enjoyed that, did you? But it’s been a while since the last time. The Ravens do love when I give them treats,” he said.

A wave of shock went through Nathaniel. He stopped his breathing exercises completely and turned to Riko despite his ribs and cuts. Surely the stitches pulled, but he didn’t care. Tightening his grip on Riko’s hand, he said, borderline hysterical, “Baby, don’t do this. I’ll—I’ll do anything you want,” he said. “Just don’t do that to them. Ellie has been—she—They’re not gentle. She doesn’t deserve this. Jean doesn’t either; they didn’t do anything.”

Riko was unsympathetic. “They’re your friends, and that’s enough reason for me at the moment. I don’t take lightly on you associating with Andrew, honey, and I just want to make sure you understand.” Mockery again. “But you’re not the only one who crossed me. It took me quite a while to think of what I could do to Andrew, you know? Because he’s in rehabilitation? For his medicine?” he hummed. “I’m sure he told you. Or maybe he didn’t. He doesn’t react to a lot.”

Nathaniel opened his mouth to say something, trying to swat away all the horrible images coming to his mind of what Riko could have planned for Andrew. He could see them clearly—Andrew found that inside his room, maybe under the pretense of killing himself; Andrew took from rehabilitation and beaten up by another crew of the Moriyamas’ men; Andrew having to deal with something _worse_ —

The words out of his lips were quiet, almost a whisper. Nathaniel asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I did it already. Did you know the average salary of a Easthaven doctor is the same as a public school teachers’? Andrew’s doctor was a very easy bribe. I had him in my pocket even before I learned that you two are sleeping on the same bed. But thanks to you,” Riko gave a teeth-baring grin, “I took the liberty to give him a call and say go on those therapeutic reenactments. Some countries say it works, you know? Of course, if the police found out I’m sure they wouldn’t like this kind of treatment very well, but I want them to take care of Andrew in more ways than one. It’s the least I can do.”

Nathaniel recoiled. He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something and curl his hands into fists so he wouldn’t start throwing punches. His trembling had stopped; Nathaniel could barely even breathe as he looked at Riko. He thought of his father or Lola before they went to take care of someone, slipping into that killing calm Nathaniel had never understood was possible. He could understand them now. His thoughts had cleared completely; his pain had disappeared. All of the sudden, all he could think of was which bones would hurt Riko the most, where he could cut that would give him the most excruciating pain. He had been weary of turning into the Butcher’s son all those weeks ago, but now he was ready to welcome him.

He schooled his features back to neutrality, slipped his hand out of Riko’s grip, and lay down like the coward boy he was. Andrew would have spat on his face. But beating Riko would do him no good, and he still had a promise to fulfill. Andrew had asked that he kept Riko’s mind off of Kevin, and he would do just that. Nathaniel owed it to him.

“Please don’t do this, Riko,” he said quietly. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Riko eyed him blankly. “Are you offering me sex? That’s not interesting anymore, Nate. You’re going to give it to me anyway,” he deadpanned, ignoring the wide-eyed looked he got from Natalie.

Nathaniel shook his head, “Baby, please. Please don’t do this. I hate knowing someone’s out there being—” he stuttered. “Because of me—because of _you_. Please, Riko. I don’t know if I can keep loving someone like that.”

Riko squinted. It was a flat-out lie, but Nathaniel couldn’t think of anything else Riko wanted that he could give. A flicker of doubt crossed Riko’s expression for a second and was quickly replaced by apathy. “You’re only saying that because you’re desperate.”

“I’m saying it as a bargaining chip,” Nathaniel admitted, “but it doesn’t make it any less true. I—I love you, Riko. But I can’t condone your actions.”

Riko was silent for a long, long, minute. Natalie got up from her stool and made sure to find something else to occupy herself, sending pointing glances to where Gabriel was, on the other side of the room. Nathaniel didn’t think Gabriel was so far away he hadn’t heard the words, but the doctor surely was pretending he hadn’t. His eyes were trained on a book, but Nathaniel noted that his eyes weren’t moving from word to word.

“You’re not in the position to blackmail me, Nate,” Riko spat, but after a while he said, “I’ll make the call to Proust if you try to manipulate me again. I love you but you can only control me so much. He needs to know he can’t take what’s mine, and you’re mine, Nathaniel. You’re mine. That’s not going to change. I’ll tear the Foxes down, and that won’t change.”

Nathaniel didn’t think this was the end of it, not by a near shot, but relief washed over him gradually. He didn’t care all that much if Riko went after the Foxes, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Andrew being put in the mercy of Riko’s men because of him again. If Riko wanted to go after the Foxes, the best way to do it was through Exy. Nathaniel knew that there wasn’t a way they’d stay in Class I if they were humiliated again this year—and the university wouldn’t give them any more money if they weren’t competing. Kevin would be done for if things didn’t go right in Palmetto, but Nathaniel couldn’t bother to worry about it.

Despite his injuries, he put a hand on the back of Riko’s neck and pulled him down. Kissing him hurt his lips, but Riko always seemed to calm down when they were close together like this. It made his stomach churn, but it was worth it.

He had a deal to honor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i finally laid down what needed 2 happen and i was like PROUST. it's time for proust. and also i wrote down all the other things until the end of this fic and there's not rly that much so props 2 me for finally going thru with a story


	9. 26-10-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally 10k i need to calm down i know :/  
> i only beta-d half of this

Nathaniel had spent the last month knowing what to expect when he got to Columbia, but looking out to Easthaven Hospital and its relatively normal crowd was like a bucket of cold water. He had been hoping the feeling of numbness would remain at least until he had Andrew by his side but he wasn’t even inside the property and his hands were already shaking. The place was a prison in Nathaniel’s mind but when he looked at it, it resembled a nursing home rather than somewhere willing to give someone the worst months of their life. The building was a block of light, gray cement and the gates looked old enough to need repairing, but Nathaniel didn’t trick himself into believing this had been a safe place for Andrew.

It was the middle of the week and of the morning, so the parking lot was pretty much empty. Most patients were released during the weekends for obvious reasons but Riko had made the call and requested Andrew be let out early, despite the receptionist’s confusion over the fact Betsy Dobson had left a note saying David Wymack and his Foxes would be coming on Saturday. Nathaniel parked close to the entrance and killed the engine, but he took a few minutes before getting out to gather himself. He had lived enough years at Evermore to know how to will his body into acting calm.

He got inside and immediately felt a scowl pulling at his lip. He forced it away. The lobby looked like a catalog-showroom and so did the people inside, smiling and nodding and explaining medical terms as if this was like any other hospital in the county. There was a fireplace and a few couches closer to the front door that were supposed to put Nathaniel at ease, but instead turned him wary. He didn’t trust doctors—or psychologists, for that matter—and their reassuring smiles.

He stood in front of the reception space and stared at the wall for a few hesitating seconds before looking down at the clerk. She was a middle-aged woman with an unconvincing smile, but he didn’t blame her. Nathaniel would hate working at a place like this, too. She said, “Do you have an appointment?”

Nathaniel continued to stare, confused for only a moment before he remembered he had on makeshift bandages on both his cheeks. He didn’t need them anymore—Tetsuji’s hits on his face hadn’t been enough to make permanent damage—but Nathaniel knew better than to leave the Nest looking bruised. He shook his head and said, in a dead tone of voice, “I’m here to pick up Andrew Minyard.”

The woman pointed to the clipboard on the desk in front of her. “Put here your name, your signature and your phone number, and I’ll call for Dr. Slosky. He said he had some things to discuss with you.”

Nathaniel nodded and took the pen she was offering. Putting on his phone number was not a problem but he hesitated when signing his name and signature, same as he always did. When he was growing up, his mother rarely called him Nathaniel, because she hated the connection his name had to his father. Nathaniel hated it too. He scribbled his name on the paper quickly, not wanting to seem even weirder in front of the clerk, but when he handed her the paperclip, he saw that she was busy making a call, presumably to Dr. Slosky.

He sat down in one of the couches on the lounge and made sure not to look at the fireplace. Fireplaces reminded him too much of his childhood before the Ravens, which terrified him even more than his time with them. For the second time in a short span of months Nathaniel remembered the safe house his father used to store him and his mother in when he needed them to lie low. It was a large wooden cabin in the middle of the woods. There was a time they went there during the winter and every night his mother lit the fireplace on the living room so Nathaniel could sleep. Looking at this fireplace in Easthaven was wrong, like it was rescuing those distorted memories of a child who didn't fully understand the world he lived in. Nathaniel felt a chill down his spine.

Less than ten minutes later a man in a white coat sat down by his side. The man had a friendly smile on and a paperclip identical to the one on the clerk's desk. He asked Nathaniel if he was the one who came to get Andrew Minyard and shook his hand when he said he was. “I’m Doctor Alan Slosky, the primary psychologist in Andrew’s case during his stay. Thank you for coming here today.”

“It isn’t like this is a social visit. I’m not here because I want to.”

“Of course not. It is rather unfortunate we’re forced into the current circumstances. But I’ll have you rest assured that we tried to make lemonade out of this lemon. Andrew is in the best shape he could possibly be,” the doctor said. “Andrew’s case was tough with his background and the shock he was in when he was first admitted, so I made sure to keep an eye on him personally. I handpicked his team and they were definitely the best people for the job.”

Nathaniel doubted that was the case. Riko had called Proust in front of him that day in the infirmary and said to put a hold on their plans, but that didn’t mean Andrew was suddenly back in the hands of a normal, balanced team. Nathaniel didn’t know if Dr. Slosky was aware of the person he had put on Andrew’s team, but even if he weren’t, that would make him an incompetent at best.

When Nathaniel didn’t say anything about the matter, Slosky moved closer on the couch and pressed his hands together over his lap. “I wanted to come here and have this conversation face-to-face. I was surprised when Susan informed me that you were coming today, and not on the weekend. I was under the impression Abby and David would come for Andrew then.” He made a helpless gesture. “I wanted to talk to them about maintaining a healthy, safe environment for Andrew in the next few weeks.”

“I’ll pass the message along,” Nathaniel said, knowing he wouldn’t. He recognized the names the man had used: David was Wymack’s first name and Abby was the Foxes’ team nurse.

Slosky let out a distressed noise. “Nathaniel, I’m not trying to be difficult. I just want you understand how imperative it is that Andrew feels safe when he’s back at the university.”

Nathaniel didn't Andrew ever felt safe at any place, especially at the university with Kevin with a target on his back, but he said, “Of course. But he has a psychologist there and his Exy team is around him all the time. They can pick him up when he falters.”

“I’m sure they can,” Slosky hummed. He stared at Nathaniel for a few more seconds as if expecting something else, but finally sighed and stood up from the couch. He smoothed out his coat absently and gestured around the room. “He won’t be much longer. Excuse me, but I have an appointment scheduled in fifteen minutes.”

Without bothering another glance at the doctor, Nathaniel forced a relaxed posture on the couch and glanced at the television hanging from the ceiling. It was the middle of the morning and Nathaniel doubted this place had cable. The channel was currently airing a movie that looked decades old, and he stared at it for a long while, without actually paying attention. His mind constantly wandered back to imagining what would happen once he got Andrew to Evermore.

A month and a half ago, Riko had sat down beside him on their bed and said he was charged with taking Andrew a week early from Easthaven Hospital and bring him to Evermore to have a conversation. It sounded like a lot of trouble for Nathaniel, who had then suggested Riko come with him and have the talk in South Carolina.

“You don’t make threats on enemy territory, honey,” Riko had said, running a hand drowsily over Nathaniel’s curls. It was late at night and Riko was sleepy. Nathaniel liked him better in this mood; not because he seemed softer and had at least one wall down, but because that meant he wasn’t two seconds away from pinning Nathaniel down and throwing punches.

Nathaniel still didn’t know for sure what business Riko could have with Andrew. He had made the calculations and he knew already that Riko couldn’t afford to get into a physical brawl with Andrew so soon after Andrew had mysteriously disappeared midway through championships. His best guess was that Riko would try signing with Andrew again, perhaps using threats as bargaining chips, but if that were true, then Riko was out of his mind. Nathaniel knew Andrew didn't care about Exy in the first place, and he had started to doubt he cared about himself, too. Nathaniel was an easy target to manipulate because he was a coward, constantly afraid of dying; if Riko wanted to persuade Andrew, he’d need to have something amazing up his sleeve.

Nathaniel only hoped that wasn’t the case. The incident with Andrew had happened over two months ago, but that didn’t mean he was anywhere near over it. Nathaniel had spent the entire time of Andrew’s absence honoring his deal by keeping Kevin safe and out of Riko’s line of thought. Whenever Riko started getting sullen, Nathaniel was there to bring him back into a more stable mentality. It didn’t help to make him much popular amongst his teammates, who were more than ready to see Kevin—and Riko and Nathaniel's relationship—go down, but Nathaniel didn’t have the luxury to think about that. He had tried to explain the situation to Jean and Ellie, at least, and they tried to calm down the tempers in Evermore.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Andrew spat, sounding half-surprised, half-enraged.

Nathaniel started from his spot on the couch and didn’t bother trying to cover it up. He stood up awkwardly and gripped at his chest until his breathing calmed down. Andrew watched the entire display with unattached coolness, but Nathaniel knew it was merely a façade and that Andrew couldn’t possibly have come to peace that he was the one there instead of his coach. He said, “Andrew.”

Andrew blinked lethargically. “I asked you a question.”

“I…” Nathaniel sighed. “Riko sent me.”

“What, no flowers?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I figured you had enough in this sick little place they put you. Perhaps you can turn back and I can go buy some for you, then you come out and we pretend it’s the first time we’re seeing each other.”

Andrew shrugged and looked around the room. “Beats juvie.”

“At least they don’t have doctors in juvie.”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you have a problem with psychologists?” Andrew said, still looking around. “Maybe they should admit you in here, too. I’m sure they’d have plenty of work.”

“I’m sure.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, then turned towards the front entrance and started walking. “Let’s go,” he said, and went past the front door.

Nathaniel stood in front of the couch for a moment, trying to figure out how to go on from this point. He had read all about Andrew’s past when he went over Riko’s files on his computer the day Andrew was abducted, and he remembered doctor’s notes about an apathy that didn’t go away no matter the pills he took. At the occasion, Nathaniel thought it couldn’t really be true that someone who had gone to prison for protecting his cousin could be this lacking, but as he followed Andrew out into the parking lot, he thought he needed to reconsider.

Andrew was wearing the same clothes he had been when the two of them met at the glade. He was standing in front of two garbage dumpsters, staring at one of them as if it had the answer to some important question. In his hand there was a black bag that clearly belonged to him, but he was holding it as if he wished it would disappear. He must have sense Nathaniel staring at him from the middle of the sidewalk because he turned his head to look into Nathaniel’s eyes. His expression remained apathetic but he was shaken from his trance. Andrew put the bag over one of the dumpsters, opened it and took out a pile of clothing. He looked at the clothes and seemed to reconsider. He shoved them back in the bag, opened the other dumpster, and threw the entire bag in. Nathaniel almost said something, but he didn’t. Instead, he continued his way across the parking lot to his car.

He slipped into the driver’s seat without bothering a glance back at Andrew but opened the passenger door from inside in a silent invite. It took Andrew another minute to get to the car and he allowed a bored glance across it before he got inside. Nathaniel didn’t start the car until Andrew put on his seat belt, and he turned on the radio at a relatively low volume. He didn’t particularly hope for conversation but he wouldn’t mind some explanation about the last few months. It wasn’t like he was expecting a rundown on the rehabilitation, but that night at the glade Andrew hadn’t mentioned what things had been like with his team after they found out about his past. Taking him off his medication showed that they cared but Nathaniel hardly thought that meant Andrew cared about them. Still, it must have been a tense couple of weeks up to the point in which Andrew was admitted. Nathaniel was also curious about how Kevin had taken the news.

The drive to the airport was silent despite that curiosity. In fact, Andrew looked so detached he might as well not be in the car. When he saw the airport, however, Nathaniel noticed that Andrew sat straighter and went very still. He didn’t know enough Andrew’s sober state to fully assess what that meant, but Andrew grew stiller the closer they got to the check-in point. Nathaniel figured it was best if he didn’t comment on it, but Andrew’s apathetic façade had slipped away just enough that it sent a string of sympathy through his chest. He offered, “Probability states that if you took one fly per day every day, it would take you nineteen thousand years before you died from a plane crash. Flying is supposed to be the safest form of transportation.”

Andrew cast him a bored glance and then proceeded to stare at the wall opposite to them. When the two of them got inside the plane, Andrew went in first, but Nathaniel offered to take the window seat so Andrew didn’t have to actively stare outside. Andrew ignored him and sat down on the seat at the far left, his calm posture back completely. Before the ascent, however, Nathaniel reached out and shut the view out. Andrew pulled the curtain back up stubbornly, but while the plane didn’t go stable, he gripped the arms of his seat hard. Nathaniel shut the window once more without saying anything, and this time it stayed that way.

The flight was short enough that Nathaniel didn’t try to sleep, so instead he put on a random movie he didn’t actually pay attention to. Andrew didn’t relax one second of the ride but by the time they reached down he had schooled his features back into complete blankness. Finally it was enough for Nathaniel. He rolled his eyes and sped up without waiting for Andrew. The two of them walked across the parking lot to where Nathaniel had left his car. He got into the driver’s seat without a second glance but Andrew took an extra moment to give it a brief scan. Nathaniel knew it was a nice car but he knew better than to think that was what Andrew had noticed. The Ravens’ sponsors gave each of the players their own car and Tetsuji had provided they were the same to everyone, but Andrew couldn’t possibly know that. It was the car’s license plate that was peculiar; the EA letters stood for Edgar Allan and the rest of the numbers were his class year and jersey. Nathaniel knew Andrew had an eidetic memory and knew it meant Andrew had understood what the plate was.

Nathaniel looked at the time on the car’s panel and decided he could afford another hour before Riko started worrying they wouldn’t make it to Evermore. He took advantage of the time and drove them to a restaurant for a late lunch. Andrew looked at him as he parked but Nathaniel didn’t acknowledge it. Andrew was silent as the two of them got out of the car, and he took that as a small victory.

A receptionist took them to a table at the back and instructed them to sit tight before a waiter came to get their orders. Andrew went over the menu looking bored the entire time but he asked for the most childish thing on the menu: steak and smiley fries. Nathaniel snorted at the order but he didn’t care enough about the food to dispute it. He ended up ordering the same thing because he didn’t want to bother looking at the menu.

Finally the waitress turned around and Nathaniel gave Andrew an assessing look. It was weird seeing him without his signature smile that Nathaniel had wanted so hard to get rid of at their last banquet together. He had known beforehand that it was Andrew’s meds that kept him in a semi-euphoric state at all times but seeing such a striking contrast between then and now made him feel a little sick. He knew Andrew had been violent when he protected his cousin, Nicholas Hemmick, from a homophobia-driven attack outside a club, but putting him on medication that strong seemed like an overreach. He remembered Andrew saying he had laughed all his way through his time at the warehouse under his father’s men’s cares. Thinking about that and how he looked now, Nathaniel couldn’t pick what was worse.

“Are you going to tell me now why you dragged me all the way up to West Virginia or am I supposed to wonder until you take me into a room with Riko?”

“You’ve known Kevin for long enough to know what there’s no reason I should know about Riko’s plans for you.”

Andrew stretched on his chair. “Oh, that’s right, I keep forgetting. He orders, you obey. I wonder if it’s like that in bed as well? Mother may I? Or is it daddy? Please forgive me if I’m not fully updated on all the bizarre kinks someone like Riko could be into.”

Nathaniel ignored him. “I think he might try to get you to sign with the Ravens again.”

“He’s insane if he thinks I’ll do it, and even more so if he thinks he can blackmail me into it. Riko gets his way with you because you’re too scared to die. He’ll find I’m not so inclined to being treated as a puppet.”

“Not even if he brings my father’s men in again?”

Andrew went still. “I’ll kill myself before I go with Jared anywhere again, but I won’t be one of Riko’s minions. I’ll kill myself before that, too.” He paused. “Or maybe I’ll solve everyone’s problems and kill Riko. That seems a lot more reasonable.”

It did seem more reasonable, but Nathaniel shook his head. “If you kill him you’ll be dead before you can say ‘arrested’. The Moriyamas might not care about what he does but I’m sure Kengo would want retaliation on whoever kills his son.”

“Hm,” Andrew agreed. Then, “Give me your phone.”

“No, Riko checks my phone from time to time and he can’t see me calling Kevin.”

“We’ll tell him I immobilized you for just enough time to make a phone call,” Andrew deadpanned. He already had one hand extended, so Nathaniel didn’t let himself think on the matter. He fished the phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and put it on Andrew’s hand. Andrew dialed Kevin’s number and put the phone on speaker, then changed his mind and brought it to his ear. “Kevin,” he said, and waited as Kevin spoke. “Try again. Andrew. It’s a long story—Kevin. Kevin. Shut up.”

Nathaniel couldn’t possibly tell what Kevin was saying to Andrew because Andrew kept the same stoic expression as always, but he knew it was some variation of whining. Andrew tolerated it for only another minute before sitting straight on his chair and muttering something impolite. Kevin didn’t get to answer, because Andrew started on a string of questions that he barely gave time to hear the answers to. After a while, Nathaniel couldn’t hear any of the words anymore, and he didn’t think he wanted to. He looked around the restaurant at the people with an absent mind. The fireplace at Easthaven had brought back memories he didn’t want to think about. Keep your eyes down, Abram. Don’t speak up. Nod when they tell you to. His mother’s words were as comforting as they were a weakness. He didn’t want to show off his cowardice.

Andrew let out an annoyed sound. “I don’t know, Kevin.” He put a hand over the microphone on the phone and called for Nathaniel’s attention with a whistle. “When will I go back to PSU?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “I’m just the envoy,” he said, and then relented, “You’ll probably be home by tomorrow. If Riko doesn’t plan on getting you to sign.”

“Tomorrow.” A pause. “No, Kevin, I don’t plan on it. It’s none of your business. Tell Nicky I’ll send him a message with the arrival time so you can go pick me up at the airport.”

Nathaniel didn't think he'd finished the call, so he didn't look up when Andrew tossed him the phone and got hit in the forehead. He sent Andrew an annoyed look and moved to put the phone back in his front pocket, then thought better and sent Riko a text explaining their flight had been delayed and they'd arrive a couple of hours late. Riko wouldn't be happy, but as far as he was concerned, there was nothing that could be done to get them to Virginia earlier.

By the time their food arrived, they hadn't spoken another word to each other. Andrew in drugs had been annoying with that mocking smile that wouldn't go away for anything in the world, but Andrew in sobriety was a disquieting, terrifying thing. He didn't particularly look dangerous, five feet tall and a turtleneck around his pretty face, but he was a body so empty it sent chills through Nathaniel's spine. He didn't think it was possible someone was so detached of reality. Andrew must have mastered the apathy mask a long time ago and it scared Nathaniel that he'd ever had to convince someone—himself?—that he didn't care, not even a little bit.

Nathaniel picked up one of the smiley fries and put it whole in his mouth even though he wasn't hungry. Ever since he'd told Riko he loved him, he had stored himself into a place he was having a hard time crawling out of. He slept only when he was about to give out, ate because if he didn't he'd feel faint, and spent all of his time in court. It was the state in which Riko liked him the most: docile, willing and completely focused on Exy. Nathaniel tried hard not to think about it so it didn't kick in his gag reflex. But maybe he'd make it out now that he knew Andrew was safe and sound and out of rehab.

Andrew eyed him as he slowly chew on his food. Then he said, "At least now I know you can keep your promises fifty percent of the time."

Nathaniel froze. "I never broke my word. You told me to go somewhere and I ratted you out," he said. He was having a hard time schooling his features into a detached expression, but it was hard to when he looked at Andrew. Though after nine weeks he'd become nearly as good as new, there were still claw marks on his neck and under his ear. It was an ugly reminder of what Nathaniel had done and he was trying his best to ignore the scars, but it was hard when Andrew's black turtleneck ended just beneath the first one.

Andrew allowed him a pondering look, then focused back on the food in front of him. Nathaniel almost thought he wouldn't say anything but he knew there had to be more Andrew wanted out of him; he wouldn't have allowed this little lunch date if there wasn't something in it for him. Nathaniel didn't even bother touching his food again, merely taking his time to look around at the restaurant, the people, the staff, and Andrew.

After a minute or two, Andrew piped up, "Staring," and when he saw Nathaniel wouldn't move his gaze, he leaned over the table and took the remaining fries from the striker's plate. Andrew looked as pleased to be there as he did at every other occasion but slowly Nathaniel recognized curiosity and annoyance in his gaze. It wasn't surprising that he was curious; he had, in fact, been kept away from society for seven entire weeks. What Nathaniel couldn't grasp was where the anger was coming from. He knew leaving South Carolina was an inconvenience but knowing what he did about Andrew, Nathaniel doubted he minded. Still—his gaze was darkened and his hands, when they weren't wrapped around the cutlery, remained in fists. He went back to all the times he'd seen Andrew and tried to recall whether that anger was ingrained into him or something he'd acquired after his time at Easthaven. The thought wasn't incongruent but somehow Nathaniel knew there was more to his feelings than seven weeks of withdrawal. Maybe it was just Andrew's medicine that had never let that show.

He sometimes pretended he had never read Andrew's files on Riko's computer and felt a weight come off from his shoulders. Nathaniel didn't know Andrew well but his story was enough to gain sympathy. Nathaniel hated himself for the feelings of pity and sorrow—they were unwelcome and humiliating, and he knew it firsthand, because he'd been he target of both those things before. He couldn't help himself, however; Andrew had been moving in an out of foster homes since he was a child and many of those houses had been reported over the years, before or after his time. There was nothing Nathaniel could do, but still, he wanted to help. Andrew's reaction to that feeling would be predictable, however, and Nathaniel kept it closed tight in his heart, somewhere Andrew wouldn't suspect.

Andrew had already finished his portion and was about to jump into Nathaniel's fries when he said, "Tell me what you did to keep Riko away from Kevin."

"Ah," Nathaniel said awkwardly and shut his mouth. He didn't want to bring up the two months of consecutive sex and big lies, but Andrew was waiting for a coherent response. He looked at the nail-inflicted scars again. "I was a good boyfriend."

Maybe it was a nice thing that Andrew's expression remained apathetic. Andrew took the salt from the center of the table and put it between his hands, twirling it from one hand to the other. His eyes were focused on it but his stiff posture alerted Nathaniel he was entirely immersed into the conversation. When he spoke next, his voice was thick. "Be specific."

"When he gets upset, there's two ways things can go. If he's inconvenienced, I can usually talk him down and hang out. But when he's pissed, it's really... not pretty. Riko likes to take out his frustrations through sex." He paused. "The day after I met you at the glade, he— told me that he'd bought out a doctor from Easthaven. Proust. I told him that I loved him to make him change his plans and have been using it to keep him as collared as I can, but it's an effort..." The words died down, because Nathaniel looked up and saw Andrew's expression.

It was the barest twitch of his lips; again, if Nathaniel hadn't learned from his mother from day one how to analyze someone's entire body language, he might have missed it. But he didn't. Andrew's hands had paused and the salt was fallen over the table between them. His posture had straightened, like he was suddenly uncomfortable sitting in front of Nathaniel. Nathaniel didn't want to analyze it. Riko had promised. Riko had made the call right in front of him. Nathaniel had done everything Riko asked—he'd wanted to believe at least that promise had been kept. As he continued to take Andrew in, however, he knew that it hadn't.

Now that he knew, he could see it: how Andrew was leaning slightly on his side, how there were deeper bags under his eyes than the normal, and how his eyes displayed not curiosity and annoyance, but curiosity and desperation. Nathaniel swallowed. He didn't know what to do with himself. One of his hands wrapped around his water bottle but he let go of it. He stuffed a forkful of cold food into his mouth but the taste was acid and the consistence too pasty, or maybe that was because he didn't feel like he really was inside his own body. All he could see was Andrew alone in an unfamiliar facility with no outside contact, no one to run to. He doubted Andrew would have run to anyone in the first place, but he had been in desperate situations before and merely knowing someone was there for the worst case scenario helped. Andrew hadn't gotten even that. A shudder went through Nathaniel's spine—he thought maybe it was panic.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, really, but Andrew jumped out of his seat and walked around their table. His pace was slow and seemingly unconcerned, his expression stoic. Nathaniel's eyes filled with tears. It wasn't his fault this time but it didn't help at all when he thought about it. Quickly, he wiped the tears away and watched the direction in which Andrew was going. When he saw that it was the front door, he gestured for a waiter and paid with a generous tip. He was almost too afraid to follow, but Nathaniel knew that if Andrew had gone to the parking lot, it was because he wanted to be followed. Nathaniel took a deep breath and went.

His legs were wobbly when he put weight on them and there was a hum in his ears that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he clenched and unclenched his jaw. In the end, he figured it wasn't really a hum, just his mind trying to process what he'd learned. Nathaniel felt only half-present, but he managed to track Andrew down to the where he'd parked.

Andrew was leaning against the black car, hands in his pockets, looking like he had all the time in the world. His face was serene again and when Nathaniel looked, he couldn't even see through his eyes. In the few minutes between them he'd somehow managed to put on an armor and mask. Nathaniel stepped in beside him and leaned against the car, at the same position. After a moment, he turned around and said, in a forcefully neutral tone, "Move."

Andrew looked like he was considering it for a second, then shrugged and slipped closer to the back of the car so Nathaniel could open the passenger door. Nathaniel leaned over to the glove compartment and took out a packet of the cigarettes he'd read about in Andrew's file. Without saying anything, he shut the door again and extended the package to Andrew, who merely raised an eyebrow. Nathaniel knew that if Andrew had been on drugs this was the time he'd burst out laughing.

Andrew took one cigarette and said, "Lighter." He didn't even look at Nathaniel when it was extended to him.

"Give me one, too."

Andrew gave him a side glance. "You don't smoke." A statement.

"No," Nathaniel confirmed, and took the cigarette Andrew had already extended and lit regardless. He let the smell involve him first. He knew how bad it was for him, but the truth was that the smoke reminded him of his mother, and how much he missed her.

Mary Hatford had died when Nathaniel was ten because of a car accident. She'd been on her way to Evermore to pick up her son before he was sold to the Moriyamas, a bag with millions of dollars on the backseat, more than ready to disappear with him and resort to a life of running. He didn't blame her for trying. It was a noble concept, really, being hunted to the ends of the earth only so he could keep his freedom, but Nathaniel had a hard time believing in it. Now that he was older he was even a little bit glad that she'd died. Mary had been a terrible mother, even if she had been the only thing standing between him, his father and the Moriyamas. Nathaniel missed her all the time, but he didn't know if his freedom was worth trading for the life she'd prepared for him with her millions in stolen cash.

After she died, he'd wondered what had happened to the money for a few long weeks. He could barely sleep, at one point, thinking about it. It was impossible that the Moriyamas hadn't seen it was missing, and they weren't idiots not to follow the money trail to Mary, but he also doubted they would have left him and his father clean if they'd found it on Mary's backseat. Only later he'd learned a hard truth he'd have rather not know: the Butcher had arrived first to the crash site, felt around his wife's blood and gore for the bag, and put the millions back where they belonged in one of the Moriyamas' safes.

With all the bad memories he had of his mother, Nathaniel ended up clinging onto the good ones—or the better ones—more fiercely. Mary had been a severe twenty-nine-year-old with a frown for a face, and it had been so long since he’d last seen a picture of her that Nathaniel found hard to pick out whether his mother had been beautiful. He hadn’t gotten much from her in his appearance; a curse, Nathaniel figured. She walked around Nathan’s many houses warily and always with a cigarette in hand. Nathaniel’s most vivid memory of her was of when he was seven. He had done something against his father’s orders, something so silly he couldn’t remember what it was no matter how hard he tried, and he remembered the rage in Nathan’s eyes well. His father had picked up his small Exy racquet from beside the couch and was marching to him like he wanted to turn him inside out. Nathaniel remembered cowering, shaking and shrinking into himself in the middle of the living room, and suddenly there was a mixture of a shout and a desperate whisper. Ten-year-old Nathaniel looked up from his knees and saw Mary standing tall in front of her husband, begging him to think rationally, though she knew it would never work. When Nathaniel grew up, he understood she’d never meant for Nathan to calm down—she was merely transferring his anger to herself. The next in his memories wasn’t pleasant and Nathaniel wished he had forgotten it, but still, he held ferociously to the image of Mary standing up for him. It had not been the only time.

Now, leaning beside Andrew with the cigarette in his hand, he felt as if she were just around the corner, ready to jump in front of him and take his punishment for him. It was irrational and childish, but he couldn’t help it. Nathaniel breathed in the smoke and felt himself stilling, replacing the images of Andrew inside the warehouse, inside a locked room with Proust, for his mother’s bravado. He wished he had as much spine as her.

Nathaniel opened his mouth to apologize, but gave up before the first sound came out of his lips. He wasn’t in the blame for this; Riko and Proust were. Suddenly he felt the urge to take the flight back to Easthaven and put everything he’d ever learned in Lola’s lessons into action. He’d said to Andrew two months ago he knew how to defend himself, but that wasn’t all Nathaniel could do. Besides, he’d seen enough of his father’s work to know exactly how to get someone to break. He wanted to do that to Proust. He wanted it so violently it made his body tremble, and it scared him. Nathaniel didn’t want to figure out when he’d become so concerned with Andrew and vengeance.

“I saw Riko make the call to Proust. He told him not to.”

Andrew took a drag from the cigarette, his motions slow and his façade impeccable. “I can’t tell if it’s cute or disgusting that you believed him.” He considered. “Scratch that. It’s infuriating. You’re delusional if you think I need your protection.”

“You offered me yours,” Neil argued. “It was the least I could do.”

“Offering people who should know better protection is what I do, not you. All you do is cower and nod.”

Nathaniel knew it was true, but hearing it was like a punch to his face. It took him another minute to school his expression and tone into calm ones again. “Someone has to protect you, Andrew,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Eventually, someone has to. Since you won’t protect yourself.”

“That’s funny. I vividly remember you telling me you could defend yourself, but you won’t.”

“That’s different,” Nathaniel said. “I won’t defend myself because I’m afraid of the punishment, mine or my friends’. But you don’t care about that. You think you no one would care, because you think you’re nothing. But I care. Kevin cares. Your coach does, and your brother, and your cousin. You’re not nothing to them.”

Andrew threw his unfinished cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. He had the hint of a scowl on his face, the first sign of emotion since he’d left the restaurant. He said, “Don’t presume you know anything about me.”

“I know a lot more than you think, Andrew,” Nathaniel said.

Andrew finally looked at him. “Maybe,” he said.

The two of them stood in silence against the car until Nathaniel’s cigarette burned out completely, and only then got inside and started towards Castle Evermore. It was a relatively long driver, but Andrew was done with talking. He turned on the radio and raised the volume until Nathaniel could barely hear himself think. Nathaniel was grateful for the distraction for the first ten minutes, but then it only turned his unpleasant thoughts into an agonizing headache. Andrew sat still on the passenger’s seat for the biggest part of the ride, but when they neared a 7/11, he hissed to get Nathaniel’s attention.

“I need to pee,” he said.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “You can use the bathroom at the Nest.”

Andrew grunted. “I need to _pee_ ,” he said again forcefully. Nathaniel wasn’t in the mood to argue, so he drove into the 7/11 and took the time to fill his tank. Andrew got out of the car slowly enough for Nathaniel to know he’d take a while, so Nathaniel resorted to staring at a family on the next car and turn off the radio. It didn’t help with his already maddening headache, but it was a relief regardless.

When they finally closed in Castle Evermore, he parked the car close to the entrance, just in case someone was nearby. The last thing he needed was for someone to spot Andrew Minyard, who had stepped down from the Foxes mysteriously mid-season, going inside Evermore. Andrew seemed unconcerned with the idea. He walked slowly towards the door and stood on Nathaniel’s way to the lock. Nathaniel had to physically push him away to unlock the door.

It was class hours for the Ravens, so there were only a few people in the lounge room when they passed by. Ellie was there and she started from the couch at the sight of Andrew inside the Nest. Only rarely outsiders were let into Evermore through the Ravens’ floor, and having Riko’s one true enemy there was alarming. Andrew didn’t so much as spare her a glance. The other Ravens went into a series of questions that he and Andrew neatly ignored. Nathaniel led the goalkeeper into his and Riko’s dorm, as Riko had instructed the day before. Riko was already there when they walked in, and he gestured for Nathaniel to stop.

“Baby, I don’t want you seeing this,” Riko said, in the sweet tone he’d learned to use since Nathaniel’s love declaration whenever he was about to be unpleasant but needed to convince Nathaniel he was trying to be better. “Gather Jean and Ellie and help her practice those drills we talked about.”

Nathaniel hesitated for only a second. He was embarrassed by the thought of Andrew seeing this side of him, even though Andrew already knew this was who he was. He didn’t dare meet Andrew’s eyes as he nodded and turned his back to him and Riko. Nathaniel closed the door behind him, but he didn’t lock it. He didn’t want Andrew trapped in a room with Riko, and if Riko wanted to punish him later for it, so be it.

He sent a text to Jean to meet him on the court and made a gesture for Ellie to follow him when he went into the lounge gain. She and the rest of the Ravens were gathered close in an almost-circle as if they’d been colluding before he got in the room. Now, all Nathaniel could do was ignore their stares again and make way towards the stair. Nathaniel walked into the men’s locker room before Ellie could start prodding him with questions and made sure to be fast as he changed into his gear. By the time he’d finished, Jean had arrived. Nathaniel walked out into the court and set everything ready for the drills Riko had all their goalkeepers practicing.

The strategy was having two strikers stun the goalkeeper and the goalkeeper picking out which one was making the last-minute shot. It was inspired in the way Andrew played, though Riko and Tetsuji would never admit to taking a Fox’s game as base for their training. Ellie was their best goalkeeper the Ravens had, so they were testing out the drills with her first, so that she could demonstrate it to the others once she’d mastered it.

Nathaniel pretended to be too busy making final adjustments to notice Ellie stepping on court, but even with his back to her, he could sense her curiosity. Thankfully, Ellie had been friends with him long enough to know when to keep her mouth shut. Nathaniel was too distracted thinking about what could possibly be going on inside his dorm to abide to her and Jean’s questioning.

Ever since Riko had told him they’d be bringing Andrew to Evermore after he was let out of rehab, Nathaniel had been thinking about the moment Andrew actually got there and stood in front of Riko. Matter-of-factly, Riko couldn’t do anything to Andrew that could cause a scandal with the media. It was a coin toss whether Andrew would even speak up if anything happened inside Evermore doors where no one could prove it, but Riko couldn’t risk betting on the losing side. Riko himself had told Nathaniel that in situations like this it was better not to bet in the first place, but it didn’t help with the chilling sensation going through Nathaniel’s body. By the time Jean got inside the court, Nathaniel had chosen to go back to his room and changed his mind at least seven times.

Jean had known Nathaniel the longest so he was quick to recognize an edge in him. He looked at Ellie and then back at Nathaniel. “Are they talking right now?” He asked in French, using a heavy accent and complicated words so Ellie wouldn’t figure out what he was saying. Nathaniel knew him for long enough to understand it. Ellie knew about Riko’s plans to undermine Andrew only in a shallow length. It was terrible keeping everything a secret from her, but Ellie was brought in through a scholarship and not through an illegal contract. She didn’t know about the Moriyamas and she couldn’t know about them, ever.

Nathaniel nodded before pausing. “I don’t want Andrew to be gone by the time we’re done here.”

“I’ll tell Ellie I have class in an hour. We need to take some time or Riko will be pissed, but…” Jean didn’t finish the sentence. He looked down at Nathaniel and sighed. “I thought about what you said, and you’re right. Riko won’t risk anything if anyone could ever suspect. After Andrew’s abduction at the start of the season it’d be too risky to let him walk around bruised.”

Nathaniel gave Jean an odd look. He knew it was an attempt to calm him down but Jean had never gone to great lengths to assure him Andrew’s safety. Jean resented Kevin for leaving, but he hated Andrew for keeping Kevin away. Giving everything he knew about the backliner, Nathaniel had figured Jean would be in an euphoric state at the thought of Riko getting his hands on Andrew, but ever since he was looped in on the plan to bring Andrew to Evermore, he’d turned a little sullen. Maybe it was because of Nathaniel’s retelling of what had happened at the warehouse and the familiarity Jean had with being forced into that kind of situation.

Ignoring the confusion in Nathaniel’s eyes, Jean turned around and went to speak with Ellie. Nathaniel picked up the bucket of red balls Riko had made especially for this drill—they were the same color as the net of the racquets—and moved it closer to where he and Jean would start the play. It needed to be exactly in the middle of them so either could take a chance at getting the first ball. Their timing would have to be perfect if they wanted to confuse Ellie.

He positioned himself beside the bucket at mid-court and looked towards Ellie and Jean. They’d finished talking and Jean was already moving to his starting mark, but Ellie hung back a few moments to give him a wary look. Nathaniel deliberately ignored her. Finally Ellie scoffed and went to the goal where Nathaniel had put her helmet. She adjusted it and gave him and Jean a thumbs up, signaling she was ready to go.

Nathaniel watched Jean for a moment then decided on their first strategy. From a place Ellie couldn’t see, he gestured who would start with the ball and who would throw the last shot. Jean nodded, moved closer so he was at equal distance to the bucket, and he and Nathaniel both started for the pile of red balls. Nathaniel only moved the racquet and let Jean take one. The two of them shared a look and nodded.

Their first move back to their original positions was completely in synch. That was the great advantage the Perfect Four had on other teams; they knew each other well enough to match. Nathaniel started his run towards the goal without needing to look at Jean; he knew the backliner was mirroring his actions. A grunt let Nathaniel know Jean was passing him the ball for the first time. Nathaniel prepared for it and caught it easily. He didn’t keep the ball for long; he passed it back only a couple of seconds later.

They went on back and forth the entire distance to the goal, and Nathaniel could see Ellie standing still with eagle eyes. She was a good goalkeeper because of her great attention span. When she was playing, nothing could take away her focus. Ellie looked very static as she watched the ball go between them. He and Jean had mastered close passes in a way that looked almost too good to be true—a way to distract and confuse their opponents. With the ball red instead of white, it was impressive Ellie could pinpoint it in the first place.

Jean held the ball for most of the time during their run but they moved a little closer so Jean could pass the ball one last time. Nathaniel felt the adrenaline take in and let himself smile ever so slightly. He waited until he was close enough to the goal and then tossed the ball to Jean. Jean was a backliner, unused to playing in the frontlines, but he was just fast enough to get the ball. With a trick of his hands he confused Ellie about whether Nathaniel had made the pass in the first place. The play was sufficiently fast that it wasn’t clear even to outsiders, and before Ellie could take the seconds necessary to make out the ball in Jean’s net, he had already taken the shot. She moved hesitantly, though she moved in the right direction. She’d guessed right on who would throw at her but she made the same mistake she’d made every other time: paused to check. If Riko were here, he’d start yelling at her for her lack of progress.

Ellie made a frustrated sound when the goal lit up red. “Again,” she said through clenched teeth.

They kept their training like that for the next quarter of an hour. Out of seven plays, Ellie was able to catch two. It was an improvement, considering she was up against two of the Perfect Four and the last time she’d tried this she hadn’t been able to catch any. Riko wouldn’t be pleased, but there wasn’t more he could do than tell them to train harder. Next they went on a little scrimmage, just for fun. Nathaniel had to pass through both Jean and Ellie to make the goal, and in the end he only managed four.

Finally Jean announced he had to hit the showers if he wanted to make to his made-up class on time. Nathaniel thanked him for it, but the moment he got in the locker room and stripped off his gear and clothes, he restarted fidgeting. They hadn’t taken long, but it was a real possibility that Andrew was already gone. The thought of missing Andrew’s parting terrified Nathaniel for some reason unknown. Nathaniel didn’t let himself dwell on figuring it out and took the world’s quickest shower.

He didn’t bother saying goodbye to Jean and Ellie or storing away all the equipment he’d taken, trusting one of them to do it for him. Nathaniel had to stop himself from jogging down the stairs and towards his dorm room. He needn’t have bothered; his door was open and Riko was long gone, but Andrew had stayed standing by his bed with the same bored expression from before. When Nathaniel entered, Andrew looked down from where he was staring at Kevin’s stars.

“Took you long enough.”

Nathaniel glared at him. “I came the fastest I could.”

“I’m touched,” Andrew deadpanned. “Now. Close the door and come here.”

Nathaniel did as he was told, choosing to lock the door this time, then moved to sit on his and Riko’s bed. He sat in a way that left space for Andrew, but Andrew didn’t bother to sit. He looked at Nathaniel for a moment, then to the joined beds. For a moment it seemed like he was going to comment on it, but instead Andrew reached for his back pocket and took a small silver phone from it. It looked so much like the one his father had given him to keep track of his location that Nathaniel started. He rarely put that phone on him because it brought too many bad memories to the surface but he was suddenly afraid Andrew had seen it and looked through it.

Andrew rolled his eyes and shoved the phone in his hand. “A man can only have so many issues.”

All Nathaniel could do was stare at the silver phone awkwardly. His grip on it was too tight and beginning to hurt, but he couldn’t move. Slowly he convinced himself there was no way Andrew could have seen the phone. It wasn’t even the same model. Nathaniel figured Andrew had bought it during his alleged pee stop at the 7/11 they’d passed and it was only a coincidence the phone he’d bought looked similar to the one Nathan had given him.

Andrew waited until Nathaniel’s breath had evened out before taking the phone again in sharp motions. He opened it and sat down beside Nathaniel so he could show the small screen. The phone was shitty enough to have an old operational system that only supported calls, texts and a squared game. Andrew pressed the button the contacts, but there were only a few numbers in it: his own, Kevin’s, Renee Walker’s and Wymack’s. Nathaniel didn’t understand why the Foxes’ goalkeepers’ number was thrown in the mix but he didn’t get the chance to ask. Andrew had already pressed one on the phone and it was already dialing his number. Nathaniel figured speed dial was programmed for everyone already, and he would later figure out which was which. There was silence with the exception the exception of the dial tones before Andrew’s own phone started ringing in his pocket. He didn’t make to answer it and instead pressed to finish the call. He extended the phone back to Nathaniel and watched as the striker hesitated to take it.

“I have a phone already,” Nathaniel said.

“Two hours ago you told me Riko looks through your calls on your iPhone. I’m guessing your gopher of a father gave you another that Riko doesn’t know about. I’m giving you a third one,” Andrew explained. “Use it however you like. Talk to me, to Kevin, to Renee. Just keep it on you at all times and call me whenever something happens.”

Nathaniel bit on his lip. “Something happens every day.”

“Did I stutter?” Andrew deadpanned. “Call me every day then. I want to keep tabs on you, Nathaniel. If you won’t fend for yourself then I’m going to make a list of every single thing Riko does to you and pay back double when the time comes. It’s a promise I’m willing to give you. I promised Kevin I’d keep him away from Riko’s claws but since I can’t seem to take you out, too, I can only tell you I’ll find a way to even the score when you’re finally away.”

“I don’t want it,” Nathaniel said. “I don’t want revenge. I just want to live through these last five years at Edgar Allan and go to the team that’s the furthest away from Riko’s.”

Andrew gave him an assessing look. His expression was stoic still but there was a flicker of something Nathaniel couldn’t make out twitching at it. Andrew said, “Every time I think you’re at least a little interesting you manage to surprise me with how pathetic you are. You’re not just a coward and a martyr, you’re a runner. I bet if you knew you wouldn’t be found, you’d walk out that door and never spare a second thought to all these people in here.”

“Do you blame me? For wanting a fresh start somewhere?”

“You’re a child. Fresh starts are make-believe, Nathaniel. You can move cities, states, countries, but you’re never going to stop being who you were before. You can change but your memories can’t. And as far as I’m concerned it’s your memories that make you who you are.” He shrugged. “According to Bee.”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Bee?”

“Betsy Dobson. She’s my psychologist. You could have met her if you’d shown up to get me at the correct day.” Andrew got up from the bed and looked at the stars on ceiling again. “Do you have my ticket?”

Nathaniel didn’t, but he knew if Andrew was asking was because Riko had let him go. Nathaniel stood up and moved to Riko’s desk. Riko kept his papers in the first drawer, so he opened it with the key Riko left on the bedside table. There wasn’t anything Nathaniel could find that could cause him to jeopardize Riko’s plans, so Riko didn’t make a goal out of keeping secrets from him. Nathaniel looked around the piles of documents until he found a blank envelope. He opened it, saw a plane ticket to South Carolina schedule for seven-thirty at night, and handed it to Andrew.

Nathaniel paused. “What did he want with you?”

“You were right. He tried to make me sign,” Andrew said, and rolled his eyes. “Then when I said I would rather kill myself than become a Raven, he tried blackmailing me. I told him he must be deaf and repeated the same thing. Then, the usual. Threats to me, to Kevin, to Aaron, to you.”

Nathaniel thought if Riko had threatened him he wouldn’t look to unimpressed, but he didn’t say anything more. He pocketed his new silver phone and took out his car keys without another word. It was still four in the evening but he didn’t want Andrew another minute inside Evermore. It was ridiculous, but Evermore had a contagious effect on people. Besides, the Ravens’ sixteen-hour days meant the rest of the players would soon arrive from their classes and start retreating to their rooms. Nathaniel didn’t want them seeing Andrew was there.

“I’ll take you to the airport,” he said, not giving Andrew another glance before unlocking the door and walking past it.

Andrew would be gone to South Carolina in only a few hours. The next match between the Foxes and the Ravens was only in another month, but Nathaniel doubted it would take him that long to make contact with Andrew again. He didn’t actively plan on following Andrew’s instructions and calling him every day but he also didn’t think Andrew would let him go MIA. Nathaniel didn’t have much of a choice; for whatever reason he’d gotten Andrew’s attention but he wouldn’t turn down the extra protection, even if Nathaniel doubted Andrew stood much of a chance against Riko and his father.

He heard steps behind him and sighed, somewhat content he had a few hours to burn out outside Edgar Allan. With some confusion, Nathaniel realized, he was also content he’d be burning those hours with Andrew at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps: are u liking this?? i feel like it's either decently going or completely over the top. please let me know,,
> 
> also, I'm thinking about rewriting the first couple of chapters so my next update might not be chapter 10 but a better, longer version of chapter 1 so heads up!!


	10. 11-11-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mentions of violence and sexual abuse. some of the violence is explicit but most of it is implied
> 
> when the story finally starts moving and u got everything that needs to happen written down and ur excited so u can't stop writing  
> i didn't beta this but when have i beta-d anything ever

Nathaniel only wasted time to write a note before bolting out of the room when Riko went into the adjacent bathroom. He could be in his room anymore. His lungs felt closer to giving out than they had in a long time. Usually he wouldn’t force himself to walk around the Nest after sex without first taking a shower. Today he felt dirty enough to know that not even an eternity under the spray of water and soap could clean him of Riko’s filth; dirty enough not to bother changing his clothes; to try combing his hair with his fingers; to hide the hickeys around his neck; to bring back whatever left of dignity he still had.

He didn’t have many places to run off to. He felt trapped inside Edgar Allan but after Tetsuji’s beating he doubted he’d have the liberty to even hang around the campus’ perimeter. Any amount of freedom he had before had vanished since his stunt with telling Kevin of Andrew’s location. Nathaniel didn’t regret doing it but it felt like a weight to his heart. He’d never before had to sit around and stare at the walls without any chance of escape. Despite hating his training with his father’s people, he’d always had them to use as an excuse to flee the university for a bit of time. Now he didn’t even have that.

Or, he did—but it had changed for the worst. For his entire life Nathaniel was haunted with nightmares that a day like this would come. The agreement had changed because his father had learned of his lying and now he’d ensured Nathaniel would never have the guts to use his lessons as an excuse again. Not when Nathaniel was an in away from turning into the Butcher’s Heir. Slaughtering people whose name he didn’t know only because someone he didn’t care about had ordered him to was what he was expected to do once his Exy career ended, but even the possibility of it sent him hurling his guts up. The weight of his father’s knife still hung heavy on his hand from earlier, reminding him over and over of what future he was supposed to welcome.

Five days ago Nathaniel had woken to a phone call with a ringtone he didn’t know. At first his blood froze with the possibility of Riko hearing it and seeing out Andrew’s flip phone, but when he’d turned Riko wasn’t there and the phone ringing wasn’t the one Andrew had bought him. It was, instead, the silver phone Nathan had given him all those years ago after he’d stopped grieving his mother enough to resume his lessons. Nathaniel had reached for it hesitantly and wished he didn’t have to answer. Pretending he’d never heard it in this first place wasn’t an option. If he didn’t pick up the phone then his father’s men would come to Edgar Allan to check, and when they saw nothing was wrong, they’d already have orders to make it a mistake he’d never make again. Nathaniel had gulped at the sight of one of his father’s phone numbers and answered. Nathan rarely spoke to him, much less called him. He had Lola and Romero and Karen to be his emissaries and Nathaniel’s teachers. But sometimes Nathan did call, and his sharp words were marking enough for Nathaniel to already know to behave, when to speak and when to play the part of a coward, obedient son. With he years he’d learned to play it well.

That phone call had been as brutal as all the others. Nathaniel had never in his life heard his father’s voice edge out with rage but he knew the killing calm that overtook the Butcher when he was ready to strike, like a snake readying itself to devour her pray. Even with their lack of constant communication Nathaniel could see what his father looked like when he used that tone. He’d seen the Butcher gut men while asking questions with it. That he used it in the call should have been warning enough of how angry Nathan really was but Nathaniel had been wrongly hopeful. His toes curled as he heard a reprimand followed by instructions to go someplace he didn’t know by name, to tell Tetsuji and Tetsuji only, and to wait for contact. He was supposed to bring the silver phone and keep it under his belt so that he could be monitored at all times. There would be no food or water for him there so if he wanted it he’d have to take them himself. Nathaniel had thought the warning was a kindness unusual of his father.

It was not kindness, he’d learned later. Nathaniel followed his father’s instructions to the letter. He left his room after his teammates had gone to glass three days after the phone call, carrying a backpack with food and water for the rest of the day. He didn’t bother stopping by Tetsuji’s office because he’d already cleared the takeoff a couple of days before. He took his car despite normally calling for a cab for his training lessons, but only because Nathan had explicitly told him to. Nathaniel had wished he could have taken phone to use as GPS but he knew better than to take a smart phone that could easily be traced by the public—or anyone, for that matter. He didn’t take Andrew’s phone, either—there would be no use for it where he was supposed to go.

Nathaniel had parked his car on the back of a supermarket nearby and took a nail from his pocket to slash the front tires. It was a trick he’d learned from Romero when he’d first started driving. To slash the tires and leave his car at a semipublic location gave the impression it belonged to someone who’d gone somewhere and abandoned it at the first sight of a problem. Since Nathaniel’s car could run with one slashed tired, all he’d need to do when he came back was to replace the second slashed one with the spare he kept tucked under his trunk.

He’d walked around the supermarket and leaned on a taller wall by the sidewalk at the front of the supermarket. He hated wasting time out in the open but his father had told him to be careful. He didn’t bother checking for cameras; his father wouldn’t have told him to park in that precise parking lot if there had been any chance he was put on tape. He lit a cigarette and stared at the passing girls like he wanted to be pleasant but his shyness kept him from it. When one of them looked at him, he’d smiled slightly and hid his face in his shoulder. He needed to blend in for some time but he couldn’t be remembered by any stranger if the police sought him out. Nathaniel had only moved after his cigarette burned out completely.

The safe house was six blocks away from the supermarket. It wasn’t exactly a close distance but Nathaniel had been thankful it wasn’t even bigger. It was a miracle his father had let him take the car to the location in the first place. Nathaniel had lit another cigarette and walked away from the supermarket like he’d just been a local who stopped for a smoking break and was ready to move on. That was the way he’d walked until he stopped in front of the safe house: an inconspicuous pastel yellow and blue with no space for a garden—because no one had time to waste with upkeep—or for a car. To anyone that passed it looked like some elderly couple's home. The street it was placed in was full of warehouses and small commerce buildings, picked on purpose. There weren’t enough locals around to pay attention to neighbors.

Nathaniel didn’t have a key and his father wasn’t stupid enough to leave one spare around for anyone to find, no matter how well hidden it might be. By the time he stopped in front of the first gate he’d already taken out his lock picks and in less than ninety seconds he was already inside the property. It was small enough that the stairs to the front door were only a turn away. There wasn’t much inside the house but at least there was an old couch he could lie on as he waited for his father’s people. Nathaniel hadn’t known who would come or what he was expected to do. That had been the point his father’s instructions ended.

He’d lain on the couch to stare at the ceiling and been tired enough to close his eyes. Nathaniel didn’t sleep because he couldn’t; the place stank of the misery of other people. He’d stayed there for hours, until the sun went down and night came in, and then dawn and midday again. The phone in his pocket went the two and a half days without making a sound. Nathaniel had checked every hour expecting the silence to be due to his battery running out, but that kind of phone took days until it shut down. His food lasted only for what it was supposed to. When he went to the bathroom he only managed to flush the toilet once, and dirty water had been what ran down. The only water left in the tap was from the pipe, filthy and with a smell bad enough to make his eyes water. Nathaniel hadn’t found it in himself to be mad at his father for not telling him about the piping or the amount of time he’d be required to wait for contact, because, in a way, Nathan had warned him.

One day after his food had ran out and three days since he’d got to the house, the phone beeped once. Nathaniel went to check but it was unnecessary. There had been a knock on the door even before he could rile his shirt up to take the phone. He’d jumped to his feet and not bothered to get a weapon. The peephole told him everything he needed to know.

He was weak and wobbly as he opened the door, his hands trembling. He was quick to hide them from his father. Nathan hadn’t been alone like he usually was for his lessons with son. On his left had been Karen, Romero and Lola, and on his right an unconscious man with a bag around his head. Nathaniel knew better than to ask questions. He’d widened the door and let them all inside. Nathan and Romero carried the man into the small kitchen and emerged back ten minutes later with the man’s bag off of him and his limbs tied to a chair. Whoever he’d been, he hadn’t been beaten yet aside from a punch to his left eye, which was already swollen.

Nathaniel hadn’t known what to make of the situation. He’d stood there, staring at the still unconscious man, acutely aware of himself. Nathan, Romero and Lola had been bloodied when they came in, but Karen, who’d sat down on the couch at that point, looked as impeccable as always. She was a thirty-something-year-old who had been charged with teaching Nathaniel about the administration of Nathan’s business. Her caramel skin and delicate features were a contrast to her always severe expression and constant elegance. Inside that safe house she seemed out of place. Normally Nathaniel’s lessons with her were at her own house, in a building that wasn’t luxurious enough to draw attention but not a shabby place like that safe house, either.

Lola had come up behind him and wrapped her muscled arms around his hips in an obstructing embrace. She’d nestled her face on the crook of his neck and, when he shuddered, left a wet kiss on the side of his face, closer to his jawline than his actual cheek. She’d been doing it since he’d grown into a man. Nathaniel wasn’t stupid enough to think she found him attractive; it was just another form of taunting. She always seemed to know what bothered him the most.

“Let him go,” Nathan had said. In his hand there’d been a gauze wet with something that, when he put it to the stranger’s face, woke him up in a matter of seconds. The stranger started, confused for a moment. His pathetic attempts at getting loose had drawn a chuckle from Karen and her impenetrable expression. The sound brought the man to his senses. He’d frozen and stared at her, then at Nathaniel, and finally at Nathan. His gaze stayed there.

He’d been wrong to think he Butcher was the biggest threat in the room. Lola was already fiddling with anticipation behind Nathaniel.

She’d pulled a hurt expression. “Only saying hello to my favorite godson.”

“If he pukes all over you it’s your own fault,” the Butcher said. His tone was calm and dark at the same time. The killing calm hadn’t reached him yet, Nathaniel saw, but it was nearly there. Nathan went to retrieve something from his own bag, which Karen had been carrying when she got inside the house, and was now thrown on the floor without care. “I need my boy with something in his stomach for this.”

Nathaniel physically had to keep himself from snarling that there wasn’t anything in his stomach but water, and that it was no one’s fault but his father’s. The Butcher had sensed the anger and given his son a dismissive once-over. “Ah, yes,” Nathan had said. He’d barely spared another glance at Nathaniel, already focused on finding something in his bag. “Setbacks and all that.” But Nathaniel could see there hadn’t been any. The three days starving and stinking had been punishment.

Finally he’d found what he wanted, and Nathaniel’s already empty stomach had emptied out even more, right over his feet. He hadn’t cared. His eyes couldn’t leave the black threat and needle his father had in hands.

He’d known it was coming before Nathan started. His father hadn’t even said anything about the vomiting before he began sewing the man’s mouth shut, entrusting Lola with the suitable punishment. But even as he was backhanded again and again, Nathaniel’s eyes had remained on the sight in front of him. The man had fainted. It had been minutes, but gore already marked his plain face.

It had not been the most terrible thing Nathaniel had ever seen in his life. The lessons with his father usually went that way, except for the crowd around them in that safe house. He’d only puked because he was already weak, and he’d known—something was _wrong_. Nathaniel hadn’t dared move from his spot. He’d been in that stinking safe house long enough not to be bothered by his own vomit.

The most terrible thing Nathaniel had ever seen in his life had happened next: Nathan pulled out a sharp knife from his belt and put it over his son’s hands. Grinned. Knew how much it taunted him.

“I realized last week,” the Butcher had started, “that you turned eighteen and I didn’t come see you. I had better, more important things to do, granted. But when realization hit me I knew I couldn’t let your birthday pass. Not without knowing whether you’re still a complete waste of my time and money.”

Nathaniel had swayed. His father punched him for it.

The Butcher had continued, “I caught this man trying to escape Baltimore yesterday, without having paid his debts to Kengo. He took a large amount, you see; his daughter’s _quinceañera_ was approaching and he wanted to give her the best party that he could. But he lost his job soon after and then didn’t have the money to pay back. I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Nathan admitted, “when all I need you to do is let him know what happens when you don’t honor your promises with Kengo.”

Kengo Moriyama was Nathan’s boss and Riko’s father. He passed by as a CEO of an international trading company by day but controlled a yakuza gang by night. As Nathaniel well knew, he was a stranger to Riko but a good enough father for Riko’s brother, Ichirou. The reason for that went a long way Nathaniel had once learned, but all he could retain was that the Moriyamas were broken into the main family which Kengo controlled and the branch family which Tetsuji controlled. The criterion was basically first-borns and everyone else, but the branches varied a lot. While the branch family focused on Exy, the main family had its hands on network of illegality and danger.

Usually the branches remained separate but Nathaniel was an exception to the rule. He was intricately linked with the branch family, as were all the other people with a talent for Exy who were sold off to the Ravens as a way to settle old debts with the Moriyamas. It should have been it, as it was for Jean and a handful of Nathaniel’s other teammates, but Nathaniel was the heir to another kind of empire, much smaller in proportion to the Moriyamas but deadly enough.

As an heir Nathaniel was expected to do everything that his father did. The Butcher had good connections with Kengo but it didn’t change the fact Nathan was property, same as his son. When Nathaniel’s Exy career ended and his duty ended to the branch family, he’d have to start fulfilling his duty to Kengo. He had known this for his entire life, even when his mother cursed and tried to think of ways to get him out.

With the knife on his hands, Nathaniel had understood his fate in a different way he’d understood it his entire life. If he’d had anything else in his stomach then, he would have vomited the rest of it. Nathaniel had always watched and suffered in silence as his father tortured and broke the bravest of men. The Butcher had never before made him step in. Nathaniel had known it was inevitable this day would come but an infant, optimistic part of him had hoped it wouldn’t.

In that safe house he’d had no other choice but to do as he was told. He was too much of a coward to fight back against his father; against his tutors.

Nathaniel wished he could forget what happened but he knew he never would. It had only been a few hours since he’d arrived back to Edgar Allan and every time he closed his eyes, he saw that man’s pain over and over again, inflicted by him. He’d known what to do—had trained for it his entire life. Nathaniel hadn’t even been able to give him a mercy death, because he didn’t know how to. He’d only been taught to cause pain.

His stomach still hurt with hunger but he hadn’t been able to keep any food down. Nathaniel had arrived at Edgar Allan and gone straight to the cafeteria but at the first bite of an English muffin, bile had risen and he’d almost dry-heaved into the cafeteria’s dark wooden floor. He felt himself swaying because of weakness as he stalked towards the back door of Evermore, but he was unable to stop. He needed to get away—from Riko’s advances, from his resemblance to Kengo and the inevitable links that came with the thought.

There wasn’t anywhere he could go. Jean and Ellie were in class, but even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to sit down with them and explain what had happened. He didn’t want their pity or their judgement. Besides, the Butcher would gut him—and them—if he ever sang. It was his father’s greatest concern regarding him.

He’d left it clear on his note to Riko that he would come back only for curfew but that he’d be inside campus the entire time. He didn’t want to know what Riko would think of it, especially since that note came after an intense round of sex. Nathaniel had told Andrew almost three months ago Riko liked to take his frustrations out through sex but what he’d had then was barely anything in the scope of Riko’s harshness. He’d known Riko was angry at him ever since he came back from Tetsuji’s beating but he’d been managing to keep that rage leashed with promises of love and obedience. Whatever had happened this week with Riko’s trip to New York after Kengo was admitted into a hospital was what that leash needed to burst. Riko had been on a ruthless streak ever since he’d come back and it scaled things up in the bedroom. Riko’s feelings for Nathaniel kept him from really hurting him but safe, painless sex was only a half-hearted thought. The soreness in Nathaniel’s body wasn’t only because of his extended time practicing on-court.

Normally when Nathaniel needed to let out his most intense feelings he’d head to the practice court at Evermore but he and the rest of the Ravens had been submitted to too much this week alone. Nathaniel loved the game but he was too close to reaching breaking point. After that scrimmage at the banquet, Tetsuji had been in an uneasy mood. Though the Ravens remained unbeaten, the Foxes had organized themselves just enough to make reaching the death matches a possibility. It made Tetsuji jumpy.

The Palmetto State Foxes were a team of nobodies who were given a second chance by Coach Wymack. When Nathaniel first heard of them a few years back he’d believed the rumors that said Wymack was only forming his team of misfits out of a need for attention, but he’d changed his mind ever since Kevin was welcomed into their home. Though the reason Kevin chose South Carolina as a place to restart had more to do with the letter Kayleigh Day—Kevin's long dead mother—had left for Tetsuji alleging David Wymack had got her pregnant nineteen years ago, Wymack was unaware of who we was to Kevin. He’d willingly accepted Kevin under his roof despite the target on his back. Nathaniel was still working on shrugging off his scorn for the Foxes and their lack of commitment to the sport but he thought he owed it to them to be somewhat respectful.

Despite the Foxes willingness to take in strays, the reason most teams viewed them a lesser team was of their own fault. The players had too much baggage and were too high-spirited to work as a team despite Wymack’s best efforts. After Danielle Wilds’ take on captaincy last year they’d improved a little, but team work was nearly impossible when they had people like Andrew to work with. Kevin was trying his hardest to make the best out of their situation but even he couldn’t put them to their full potential if they wouldn’t help themselves. When they reached the death matches their team would be taken out easily no matter their small improvement this past season.

Nathaniel mechanically walked himself to the in-campus café but even the familiar ambient wasn’t enough to make him breathe any easier. When he felt like this he usually stepped into Tetsuji’s office and announced he’d be gone a couple of hours for sparring with Lola or sorting out papers with Karen and then sit in a park bench close enough to the uni that his father’s people alerts didn’t raise. Staring at the café walls wasn’t a decent replacement. He threw the coffee he'd ordered in a trashcan despite only having drunk half of it and walked with wobbly legs out into the curb.

He had a few acquaintances at the uni that he could go to and spend some time with as a distraction, but Nathaniel didn’t trust himself to look like a normal person right now. He didn’t think he’d have the energy to come up with lies if one of them asked why he seemed a half-second away fainting. Instead of heading towards where he knew they’d be, Nathaniel made way to the football field on the other side of campus, far away from Castle Evermore. He sometimes used the running track around the field when he woke up early, but it’d been some time since he’d last gone there. Nathaniel cogitated running for only a second. He was too tired to run and, considering he hadn’t eaten in almost three days, he didn’t know if he’d remain conscious if he exerted himself. He went up the bleachers and sat in one of the higher-up steps to look into the field. Football practice was in the morning and it’d been raining the first half of the week, so apart from the players, no one else was using the field this week. For once, Nathaniel couldn’t tell whether he enjoyed the silence.

The realization that he was uncomfortable alone in that place set him moving before he could process it. His hand reached for the silver flip-phone in his pocket that he’d been carrying around since he got to Edgar Allan at the start of the evening. Nathaniel didn’t know why it brought him a sense of security but he thought it had to do with Andrew’s words to him as he'd given him the phone. Andrew understood there wasn’t a lot he could do to take Nathaniel out from Evermore but he’d promised he’d find a way to make things right. Though Nathaniel didn’t care much about vengeance, it was the first time since his mother had died that someone cared enough to fight with him—for him.

Thinking about his mother thinned the already thin line between sanity and complete madness. Nathaniel wished he had a cigarette with him, but Riko kept him from buying any packs because of his health. He’d begun fidgeting and barely heard the first time Andrew said his name. Nathaniel blinked to swipe away the foggy reminisces of his mother and listened for another word. The line was silent but when he took the phone away from his ear he saw the call had been going for a half-minute already. Nathaniel didn’t know when he’d decided calling Andrew was the best alternative to keep him from his nervous breakdown, but before he could think too hard on it he heard the faint sound of Andrew calling his name again.

Nathaniel slowly put the phone back to his ear and shuddered when Andrew called for him again. He guessed his breathing was harsh enough to let Andrew know he was there, because even as he stood in silence and gazed into the grass on the football field, Andrew stayed on the line. Nathaniel didn’t know what he could say to Andrew at a time like this. He was on the verge of a panic attack and he didn’t trust Andrew enough to let him witness it, but he didn’t have it in him to hang up. Two and a half weeks ago Andrew had told him to call whenever something happened, but Nathaniel had never had the intention of doing so. Maybe Andrew had known it even as he said the words, because he hadn’t called once, either.

He schooled his breathing back to normal for long enough to say, “Hi.” His voice was hoarse from lack of use and quiet because of his exhaustion. For a second Nathaniel didn’t even recognize his tone. There was an edge to it that brought it closer to desperation than the one he’d used when he’d whispered to the half-dead man at the safe house that he was sorry. At the time he hadn’t thought his father heard but when the man was taken away and only he and Nathan remained, Nathaniel had gotten a beating as hard as all the other he’d ever got from his father. Tetsuji’s blows with the racquet seemed like nothing compared to Nathan’s. Nathan wasn’t allowed to leave marks where the media could see but he made up for it with cuts and bruises on Nathaniel’s not-yet healed chest and back. At least he hadn’t hit the cracked rib.

Andrew didn’t answer right away, but Nathaniel could hear his breathing through the phone and heard the different pace it’d taken. Nathaniel still wasn’t sure why Andrew cared but it was obvious that he was angry. At who, Nathaniel didn’t know, but the quietness brought even more tension to his shoulders. He pondered hanging up and forgetting altogether about Andrew’s offer at hearing him out. Finally, Andrew said, “Hello.”

“You said I could call when something happened,” Nathaniel breathed. He didn’t have the energy to do much else.

“I did,” Andrew said. He waited for another half-minute then pressed, “And?”

“And something happened.” A whisper. Nathaniel wasn’t sure Andrew would hear it.

It was obvious that he had, because Andrew’s silence shifted. It was impossible to imagine what Andrew looked like answering this phone call all the way from South Carolina. This time the answer took long enough that Nathaniel had to check the small screen on his phone that the call was still going. He’d only just opened his mouth to ask if Andrew was still there when Andrew said, “You said you didn’t need my promise but it still stands. Tell me everything that happened.”

Nathaniel was thankful for being told what to do. He told Andrew everything. He started with Tetsuji’s beating months ago and explained what it meant to his relative freedom inside the Ravens. Then he told Andrew about the call from his father a week ago and what he’d had to do to that man under his watch. He thought he owed it to that stranger to not let anything out. He went through everything that he’d done, every plea the man had made, and told Andrew about his whispered apology. Nathaniel thought to gloss over the beating it had got him but Andrew didn’t let him move on until he made a thorough report of every blow and cut. He ended with his arrival at Edgar Allan and Riko’s relentless inclination to sex.

Andrew hadn’t said anything aside from the demand he’d talk about the beating, but he interrupted Nathaniel when he was about to ask for a change of subject. He said, “Did he hurt you?”

Nathaniel blinked. “I just told you he did.”

“I didn’t mean your father,” Andrew said after a moment.

Nathaniel hesitated before giving the next answer. It had been three months since Andrew was taken to that warehouse and put under the cares of the Butcher’s men and only three weeks since he was taken away from Easthaven with Proust. Nathaniel had forgotten about what Andrew had endured when he told him about Riko’s intentions to fuck Nathaniel into oblivion but now it all came crashing down to him. He didn’t know what it must be like for Andrew to be hearing this and not be able to do something about it. It almost made Nathaniel refuse to talk about the subject, but he knew his silence would only enrage Andrew further.

“In some fucked up way, Riko loves me,” Nathaniel started. His voice was still quiet and hoarse but the topics of the conversation had raised his spirits enough that he could talk at a normal volume. He said, “He likes hurting other people but he only hurts me when he thinks he has to. He’s not… completely insensitive to me during sex. I think he might even want me to feel good, too. But he was angry,” he admitted at last. Nathaniel didn’t have to add anything further because he knew Andrew was recalling what he’d said about Riko taking his frustration out through sex.

This time Nathaniel was prepared for silence. He knew Andrew needed time to gather his self-control and was more than happy to take a few moments to do the same. An eternity passed before Andrew said, quietly, “I’m going to kill him.”

Nathaniel shook his head even though Andrew couldn’t see him. “You won’t. You won’t,” he pressed, when he heard Andrew growling. “I’m telling you all this because I need someone to hear me out. Because if I keep this bottled up I’m actually going to explode. But if you do something stupid, you’re going to lose whatever means of communication you have with me. That’s a promise.”

Andrew had put his anger in check he next time he spoke. “Do you expect me to hear all this and let you stay there?”

“You don’t have any other choice,” Nathaniel argued. “You told me to call when something happened so you could keep a list of what they did to me. For later. If I knew you’d try something now I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Another long silence. “Fight back, Nathaniel.”

“No,” Nathaniel stressed even before Andrew had finished his sentence. Then, noticing how cowardly he’d sounded, he said, “I can’t. There’s no way out but through. After my five years at this place end I won’t have to face Riko again.”

“You’ll never get rid of your father,” Andrew countered.

“No. But I don’t think anyone ever gets rid of their family,” Nathaniel joked.

Andrew wasn’t amused by Nathaniel’s half-hearted attempt at ending the subject, but Nathaniel wasn’t surprised. He couldn’t imagine a world in which Andrew would ever laugh at his jokes. There was no long silence before Andrew said, “You won’t be in there forever, Nate,” and it sounded like a promise.

That was enough to shut Nathaniel up. He couldn’t think of what else to say so he left the conversation open for Andrew to lead. When Andrew didn’t, he noticed the silence had changed and he couldn’t hear Andrew’s breathing anymore. He checked the screen again and saw the timer blinking a number repeatedly. Andrew had hung up. Nathaniel sighed and put the phone back in his pocket.

Slowly, he got up from the bleachers and made his way back to Evermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my sons :( didn't they suffer enough in canon what am i doing
> 
> someone asked me so find me in: <http://aaronminyard.tk>
> 
> PS: let a girl know what ur thinking I need constant validation


	11. 18-11-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt beta this. i don't have an excuse im just lazy  
> also i didn't remember what andrew's car was before the maserati. anyway

The Ravens versus Foxes match was transferred to Virginia only because of how much coverage it was getting. It was the first time the two teams were facing after Kevin’s transference and everyone wanted to get a close look at the new rivalry forming between them. Though Kevin had kept quiet in front of the cameras—surely in the hope Riko’s anger would decrease if he remained submissive—his silence towards his previous team had incited all kinds of rumors. Three days from the match, Castle Evermore seemed more like a circus than an Exy stadium.

A week ago Tetsuji had moved the players from the Nest to a fancy hotel in case some fans or reporters arrived early. The stadium was just outside the campus but the College Board would not condone the Ravens’ way of living if it ever came to light—something that could easily happen when there were so many Exy journalists looking for a big scoop on the Ravens. It was always like this before big games. Each pair would get a suite at the hotel and drive to Evermore at first light, as if it was a year-long routine for them.

For the week prior to the game, Nathaniel was usually the first player to arrive at Evermore for morning practice. When he got there, there were always a couple of cooks preparing the Ravens breakfast, but he’d been trusted on to take the team’s captaincy for the last five days in which Riko wasn’t in Virginia. He hadn’t let the team know where he was going for his trip at the start of the week but the news channel made them all aware that Kengo Moriyama had been hospitalized and was in critical condition in New York. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where Riko had run off to, though even the least conscious players knew he hadn’t been invited. It was a little worse for Nathaniel; every night that Riko was away, he’d been woken at in the middle of the night by a drunken Riko who sobbed and cursed and confessed he still didn’t have the courage to try to meet his father at the hospital. Nathaniel found hard to take pity on Riko.

Riko gone meant that the next in the line of command in the Perfect Court should take captaincy, but since Kevin was gone and Nathaniel would have been number three if it hadn’t been for the Butcher’s agreement with Kengo, Nathaniel had been put in charge. He’d never liked playing captain, but things had worsened from the last time he’d had to command practices along with the coaches. The fact that Tetsuji was also gone to negotiate with Kengo’s heir and his nephew, Ichirou, meant that the Ravens weren’t held back from their violence. Nathaniel’s teammates still hated him for his relationship with Riko despite Jean’s and Ellie’s attempts to get them to see his side of things.

Thankfully, having only the assistant coaches present meant that Nathaniel could give himself and his teammates an extra break today when practice turned completely unproductive. He knew he’d get grief from Riko and Tetsuji for it but ever since morning the Ravens had been particularly brutal. Riko was returning tonight after curfew, so he took the opportunity to prepare himself in his hotel room by drinking as much alcohol he could find in the cabinet. There wasn’t a lot but he didn’t have the chance to leave to get some more. When staying in hotels, the Ravens had a lot more freedom with coming and going, but even the assistant coaches put limits so close to a match.

Nathaniel stared at the white ceiling of his hotel room for at least another half hour before coming to the conclusion he was too exhausted—mentally and physically—to spend the rest of the day in bed. The Ravens operated in sixteen hours days, so staying in a hotel where he was hounded constantly left him unbalanced. He’d only managed to take a twenty-minute nap after he drove back from practice and he was tired enough that even sleep didn’t help.

Two hours ago he’d woken up to his phone beeping on the nightstand beside him, but when he went to look there were no new text messages. For a moment Nathaniel thought he’d gone insane but he was convinced he’d heard the noise. Annoyed, he’d got up from the bed and went to search in his suitcase for the phone Andrew had given him. The two of them hadn’t spoken since his breakdown-ish call the other week, but sometimes Andrew sent texts checking Nathaniel was still alive. Since Nathaniel had told him of Riko’s trip, however, Andrew hadn’t given indications that he wanted to chat.

When he’d fished the phone from the bag, he’d seen that there was, indeed, a new text. It was not from Andrew. Renee Walker’s contact shone on the screen and the text said: “Hey, Nathaniel. I know it’s none of my business but Jean and Andrew mentioned you in passing and I was wondering how you’re doing. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just want you to know you have a friend in me. I’m praying for you! Have a good evening.” Nathaniel had deleted the text without hesitancy. He didn’t care or trust Renee. Though she and Jean had become friends since the last banquet, she’d seen enough of her to know she was more than she let on and that her mask was nearly as good as Andrew’s. Nathaniel knew Andrew’s reasons for keeping his façade but until he learned hers he wouldn’t let himself fall on her good graces.

Now he got up from his king-sized bed and started towards the closet where he’d put the clothes he used most frequently. He’d been going out to run at the park close to the university every morning, enjoying his relative freedom while it lasted. Nathaniel pondered for a moment whether his tired body could handle another run today and changed into his running attire before he could reconsider.

Nathaniel turned to get his phone from his nightstand then looked at the bed where Andrew’s flip phone was resting. He put them both in his short’s pocket and walked out of the room. There were a few Ravens in the corridor talking to each other, but when he stepped out they stopped talking. Nathaniel had grown used to it; they all still thought he was going to rat them out. He gave them a brief and sharp nod then proceeded towards the elevators like he hadn’t noticed their silence. The elevator couldn’t get to his floor fast enough. Nathaniel walked into it and pressed the button as quickly as he could.

He’d only just sat on the driver’s seat of his car when Andrew’s phone beeped again, and this time it remained beeping. Frowning, Nathaniel fished it from his pocket and read Andrew’s contact. Andrew hadn’t called him ever since giving him the phone, so Nathaniel knew whatever it was, it was probably important. He picked up before Andrew could get angry and let out a long sigh before greeting the other caller.

“Nate,” Andrew said in response. “Is Riko back yet?”

“Only tomorrow at two in the morning. Why?”

Andrew took a moment to answer and it sounded like he was shifting wherever he was. “Good. I’m twenty minutes away from Charlottesville. Can you meet me somewhere?”

Nathaniel stuttered, “What?” But Andrew didn’t repeat himself. He wanted in silence until Nathaniel had processed the information. The striker said, finally, “Where?”

“Last I checked you’re the one who lives there and I live all the way down in Palmetto. Give me a name and I’ll drive there. Not somewhere public. I don’t like crowds.”

Nathaniel made a mental list of places that wouldn’t cause alarm with his father’s people then mumbled an address. Andrew made a noise of acknowledgement then hung up without another word. Nathaniel sighed and put the phone back in his pocket before starting the car. He’d get to the town square before Andrew but he didn’t mind the extra time to think. He wanted some extra time away from the Ravens’ toxicity and from the environment that constantly reminded him of Riko’s return tomorrow. Nathaniel drove slowly, taking the time to appreciate the town. He’d lived in Charlottesville since he was ten but he’d only been allowed to drive around the city unchaperoned a few times. He thought of stopping at a diner to get himself some coffee but figured it was better to wait in case Andrew wanted something as well.

It was the middle of the afternoon, so the square was mostly empty apart from workers coming and going when Nathaniel got there. He sat down in a bench that looked to a Nationalist statue in the center of the square and brought his knees to his chest to shield from the cold. Winter hadn’t come officially but soon snow would start falling. Nathaniel played on his phone as he waited for Andrew, content for finally leaving the hotel for something other than practice.

Andrew had been twenty minutes away from Charlottesville when he called, but he must have taken a few wrong turns until finding the right address, because it was nearly thirty more minutes until his car passed by Nathaniel. Andrew looked at him from his seat while he passed then moved his eyes back to the road in order of finding a place to park. The buildings were fully in operation at that time of the day, so the only available spot was in the next block. When Andrew appeared in Nathaniel’s line of sight he seemed annoyed and acutely cold. His skin was mostly pale apart from his extremities which were bright red. Weren’t it for the glare that he’d mastered over the years, Nathaniel could have almost tagged him as adorable.

Nathaniel moved aside as Andrew got close and it only occurred to him to stand up when the goalkeeper rolled his eyes and sat down. He said, “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I prefer to drive instead of flying,” Andrew explained. Nathaniel nodded, but that didn’t explain why he’d come a day early and he and Andrew both knew it. Before it could be pointed out, Andrew continued, “Renee said she texted you.”

“She did.”

Andrew squinted. “You better not be an asshole to her. She only wants the best for you.”

“That’s because she knows me know well,” Nathaniel scoffed. “I didn’t answer her. And I won’t. I didn’t pick you for the caring boyfriend type.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s someone who understands and who’s willing to take the hit. Which makes her more bearable than anyone else I know,” Andrew said.

Nathaniel could have said something about how no one understood his situation at the Nest, but he could see Renee was a sensitive subject to Andrew by the way his shoulders tensed and the corners of his lips twitched down. He let go. Nathaniel reached for his cigarettes in his pockets before remembering he was in his sportswear. Andrew noticed what he was looking for and fished out his own Marlboro pack. They weren’t Nathaniel’s favorites but he didn’t complain when Andrew passed him one. Andrew leaned closer to light the cigarette in his mouth then took for himself.

“Why did you call me?” Nathaniel asked.

Andrew took a drag from his cigarette then flicked it so some of the burnt residues would fall before them on the ground. “You’re not honoring your end of the deal, so I thought I’d make you,” he said. When Nathaniel’s expression remained blank, Andrew closed his eyes and clarified, “It’s been over a week. Am I supposed to think nothing’s happened at that hellhole this whole time?”

“Why do you care, anyway?”

“Oh, Nate, no,” Andrew said. “You mistake honoring a promise for caring. It’s really a simple thing. Riko and his minions do something to you, I make them pay double.”

“You didn’t have to make that deal in the first place.”

Andrew flicked him a bored look. “That’s me, savior of the mistreated and helpless. Maybe you’ll call the Church one of these days and tell them about me. Saint Andrew. Such a pity there’s already one of those.”

“Do you ever cut the bullshit or is that, like, your thing?” Nathaniel rasped. “I wonder what your saints would think of you.”

“You know, this may come as a shock to you, but I’m not really a religious person,” Andrew said. “That’s only for the ones who don’t have the courage to fight their own battles without other people’s help. Hey, that’s you,” he said, and took a drag from his cigarette.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “You’re being annoying today. Maybe Kevin whined a little too much in your ear? I don’t feel like hearing your bullshit, so I’m just going to go back to the hotel now.”

“What a great little liar you are. It must be the Butcher’s blood inside of you.” Andrew shifted on the bench so he was completely turned towards Nathaniel. “Don’t act like you’d rather be there over… anywhere else, really. You want out of that place almost as much as I want to hear you stop moaning.”

“Fuck you,” Nathaniel said, but he stayed in place.

They didn’t say anything else until both their cigarettes burned out. Andrew was right; Nathaniel would rather sit here at the square and hear Andrew’s retorts for the rest of his life over going back to the Ravens. Nathaniel hated that he’d shown enough vulnerability for Andrew to be guessing correctly about his life, but he told himself Andrew needed to know this if he was going to honor his end of the deal. Nathaniel didn’t honestly care so much about Riko and the Ravens paying for what they did to him so much as he did about getting out, but this deal meant that someone other than helpless Jean was looking out for him and he felt good about it.

Nathaniel threw his burned out cigarette behind him then stood up from the bench. The sun was still peaking in the sky but the temperature had dropped even more and he was in his shorts. Riko and Tetsuji would kill him if he got sick so close to a game. He turned to look at Andrew and saw that the goalkeeper was already staring at him with the same apathetic expression from always. Still, Andrew looked almost curious. Nathaniel gestured to the sky as if that explained his need to leave.

“It’s freezing,” he said when Andrew didn’t get up. “Unless you want to lose your fingers before Friday’s game, I suggest we get inside.”

“You must have a memory issue. I’ve told you at least a dozen times how little I care about your precious Exy,” Andrew said. For a moment it seemed like he’d stay out in the cold just out of spite but instead he took a last drag from his cigarette then threw it away and stomped it with his foot. He got up slowly, his eyes fixed in Nathaniel’s as if challenging him to say something.

Once they were side by side Andrew gave Nathaniel a bored once-over and zipped up his jacket in the most unsubtle way he could. Nathaniel hugged himself tighter and formed a scowl. He said, “When’s your team coming?”

“Thursday evening. What do you care?”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Let’s go. I have a place we can go that’s warm and not public. You know what my car looks like, right? Just follow me.”

Andrew hummed in agreement and turned to where he’d parked his car without saying anything else. He looked unaffected by the cold apart from his red nose and ears but his pace quickened once he got far enough away. Nathaniel didn’t understand why Andrew thought it was so important he saw everything as a challenge, but he’d probably be long gone before he could understand Andrew’s coping mechanisms. He made the way back to his car more slowly than Andrew but by the time he sat behind the wheel his fingers were a little numb. He turned on the heater but didn’t start the car until Andrew’s black Lexus stopped behind him.

It was still the middle of the afternoon and Nathaniel didn’t feel like going back to the hotel anytime soon, so he didn’t speed the car much until Andrew honked from behind him. Nathaniel rolled down the window and gave him a crude gesture that was answered with only more honking. The rest of the drive was faster and there weren’t many people around in the streets, so it didn’t take long for them to get to Nathaniel’s own safe house. Charlottesville was a college town and the students were all in class, so Nathaniel didn’t bother to remain anonymous as he pulled up by the curb and got out of the car. Andrew killed the engine but stayed inside his Lexus staring at Nathaniel through the front window. He only opened the door when Nathaniel produced a set of keys from his back pocket and stopped in front of the low black gate.

The house had been Mary Hatford’s before she died and now technically belonged to Nathan, but Nathaniel doubted his father even remembered this place existed. Ever since his mother’s death Nathaniel had been treating the house as a safe haven from both the Butcher and Riko. He’d grown up hearing about the importance of safe houses, but no one had ever thought of giving him one that wasn’t linked to Nathan’s business. He barely came over so the painting needed retouching and the lawn needed mowing, but the house wasn’t shitty like most of the places Nathan owned. Mary had bought it around the time Nathaniel was born, the neighborhood not occupied of so many college kids back then.

Nathaniel unlocked the gate and ignored the curious look Andrew sent his way. The two of them made past the long grass and up the white front steps of the house. It took them a couple of minutes get inside because Nathaniel couldn’t remember which key was the one to the front door, but when they got in Andrew let out a loud snort.

Nathaniel sent a skeptical look his way and asked, “Too suburban for you?”

“Too suburban for _you_ ,” Andrew corrected. “Are we breaking and entering?”

“No,” Nathaniel said. “This was my mom’s. My father and Riko don’t know I still use it sometimes. There’s no electricity but the water should be fine, if you want to use it. I’m going to start the fire.”

Andrew nodded once then went into the corridor, presumably looking for the bathroom. Nathaniel took a box of matches from the kitchen then moved to the fireplace to light it. It still triggered memories of his mother he didn’t want to think about, but everything in this house reminded him of Mary. She’d never spent much time with him in this place, only really keeping it as somewhere to run away to in case something terrible happened between her and Nathan, but he’d been inside the house enough times as a kid to have memories in it. In the bathroom, he’d stitched Mary up countless times after she got into a fight with Nathan. She’d taught him how to bake in the kitchen and played board games with him until he forgot about his father in the living room. By the time Andrew came back from the bathroom the fire was lit but Nathaniel was very near shaking. If Andrew noticed, he didn’t say anything.

The house had a comfortable couch in front of an old television but they both sat close to the fire to keep away the cold. The silence was too awkward, so Nathaniel started on the story of how Mary had found this house and bought it. Andrew looked uninterested, but he listened to Nathaniel’s words and didn’t look like he wasn’t paying attention. When Nathaniel finished he still didn’t look like he’d say anything, so the striker continued on another story from his childhood.

“Do you have any good memories with your father?” Andrew interrupted before Nathaniel could move on to a third story.

Nathaniel blinked. He thought about the most important parts of his childhood and came up blank of nice memories with the butcher. The happiest moment he’d ever had with his father was when Nathan agreed to let him keep playing Exy in little league, but he didn’t think Andrew would appreciate that. He shrugged then said back, “Do you have any good memories with your foster families?”

Andrew froze. He’d been rubbing his hands on his armbands to make heat but as he processed Nathaniel’s question, his fingers dug into the fabric like he was reassuring himself of something. Nathaniel suddenly remembered the banquet and how Andrew had patted his armbands when threatening Riko. He also remembered how Kevin’s expression had bordered anxiety and fear when he saw that.

“Why do you always put your hands on your armbands when you’re tense?” Nathaniel changed his question.

This Andrew could answer. “I keep my knives in them,” he said, and proceeded to hook three fingers under one of them and fish out a black-handled knife.

Nathaniel stored the information away. He pondered on how Andrew’s experience in the foster system had been when the quick mention of it sent him reaching for his knives. The file in Riko’s computer said Andrew had an eidetic memory, so Nathaniel wondered if he’d been so jumpy because he didn’t trust Nathaniel or because there hadn’t been any good memories at all. He could ask, but he didn’t want to make Andrew so uncomfortable he would leave. When Andrew was gone, Nathaniel would inevitably have to go back to the hotel and think more about Riko’s come back in a few hours.

Instead of pushing he said, “Your turn.”

“My turn?”

“You just told me a truth. Now I have to tell you one in exchange.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Honesty doesn’t come in credit,” he said. “But it’s a way to make sure your leash doesn’t get too stretched out. Fine. Apart from the fact you’d actually consider humping your Exy racquet, why haven’t you run away yet?”

“Because I’m a coward,” Nathaniel said. “And Riko isn’t the only one I’m scared of. Kengo might not care enough about me to chase me over escaping from the Nest but it puts him and my father into a delicate position. All it'd take was me singing to the police and they’d be forced to produce a lot of bribe money. I’d be dead before I could say ‘bye, dad’. And even if I managed to convince the Moriyamas I’m willing to forget they exist, my father would kill me just for my disobedience. People already perceive him differently when it comes to me because he made Riko promise to take it easy on me. If his son went free without finishing his contract his reputation would take a serious hit. He’d never give up chasing me.”

“And Riko? Neither Kengo nor your father would care if you broke his heart.”

“No, but I’m the only thing holding Riko back from going completely ape shit on the Ravens,” Nathaniel countered. “Before mom died, he made my father promise he wouldn’t let the Moriyamas do to me the same they do to Jean. My father had to call on a favor with Kengo, but in the end Tetsuji and Riko had to agree to take it easy on me. Now every time either of them wants to hit me they go to my friends.”

Andrew hummed. “No one asked for a martyr.”

Nathaniel hardly thought he was only agreeing to be Riko’s boyfriend out of the kindness of his heart, but he didn’t mention it. Instead he got up from the ground and went into the kitchen to look for something to eat. He’d grown unaccustomed to normal hours over his ears at the Nest, so he hardly ate his meals at the hotel along the other customers. There was nothing in the cabinets when he opened them except for some cookie dough and the rest of a bag full of coffee grains. It was better than nothing, so he rolled up his sleeves and started on the cookies.

It’d been years since Nathaniel had last needed to cook himself anything, so baking took longer than usual. At some point Andrew appeared in the kitchen to check what was taking him so long and ended up sitting on one of the stools and stealing bits of the dough. Nathaniel thought it was disgusting, but he didn’t comment on it. He silently shaped the dough into circles then gave Andrew what was left of it in the bowl. The cookies and the coffee would both be done in only a few minutes, so neither of them bothered to leave the kitchen.

“You owe me two truths, you know,” Nathaniel commented when he got tired of watching Andrew eat the unbaked dough. Andrew scowled at him but didn’t stop eating. He gestured for Nathaniel to make the question, but the striker only crossed his arms and leaned back on the counter. “Who says I have to ask right now?”

He meant for it to sound smug, but the truth was that he liked knowing he could make Andrew satisfy his curiosity. There was no guarantee that Andrew would ever want to continue playing his honesty game again, so he wanted to make sure his two questions mattered. He also didn’t want to push Andrew’s limits. He was observant enough to see the goalkeeper froze at some words that were thrown at him. His foster homes were completely out of question and family was a sensitive issue. Nathaniel wanted to learn what else his triggers were so he wouldn’t start Andrew on a violent reaction now that he was still recovering from years’ worth of pills.

Nathaniel was curious about a lot of things from Andrew’s past, but he knew he had a way of finding out about them without wasting his questions. The file on Riko’s computer had had a lot of sensitive information, but they’d only raised more confusion. They spoke of Andrew’s abuse and his many psychiatrists but failed to mention how Andrew was towards what mattered the most to him. Nathaniel didn’t care that Andrew had beat some guys senseless outside a club; he cared that Andrew had defended his cousin. They mentioned him as a monster, but forgot that he was a human being.

The alarm he’d set up on his phone beeped and his knees buckled with the scare. Nathaniel turned to stop it and saw that all the time he’d been staring at Andrew, Andrew had been staring back at him looking vaguely intrigued. When he opened his mouth to comment on it, what he got in response was an annoyed scowl.

“Your cookies are ready,” Andrew said, apathetic again.

Nathaniel turned to get the stove, but he didn’t hide the complacent smile he was sporting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is 4k of filler sorry yall but at least!! soft bfs baking together


	12. 30-11-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is very extra and i am sorry. in other news, i love writing exy
> 
> cw: graphic descriptions of violence, more explicit than in past chapters but still less than canon

The drive from the hotel they were staying at to Castle Evermore was only ten minutes on a normal day, but Charlottesville wasn’t built to withstand the commotion of a large and controversial Exy match. The Ravens had been piled up inside their buses for twenty-five minutes before Tetsuji made the decision to turn around and take the longer route in the hopes it wouldn’t be as congested as the direct way from the main road to the stadium. The road was, in fact, less clogged, but ten minutes turned into thirty on a normal day and the GPS on the bus suggested it’d be another hour before they got to Evermore.

Ten minutes ago Riko had been pulled by the Master to resolve some legal issues between the branches, so now Nathaniel was sitting beside Ellie and listening to her talk about her day. When he’d come to sit beside her, Ellie had noticed how anxious he was for the game and started on the most random subjects to shut out the other Ravens’ conversation. Their roster was large enough to occupy two buses, so all around them there were parallel conversations about what the Ravens would do to the Foxes and how they’d make Kevin pay, which only made Nathaniel even more nervous. He didn’t care about what Ellie was talking but her voice had always managed to calm him down. Ellie wasn’t a soft person, but she’d known enough pain inside Evermore to know how to handle her most sensitive teammates such as Nathaniel. Jean was turned back on the seat in front of them and chipped in every so often to update Nathaniel of how things were going with the Ravens. Nathaniel wasn’t oblivious to the way they kept staring at his hands.

The day after Andrew asked to meet with him, Nathaniel had inevitably become sick. Riko had taken to the infirmary as soon as possible, but they’d been warned he’d still be feeling bad by the night of the game. Nathaniel tried assuring Riko that it wouldn’t affect his performance, but even in practice that day he’d lacked tremendously. It had been a while since he’d last gotten beaten by Riko, but the other striker had been too enraged at Nathaniel’s stupidity to care about Kengo’s orders or his own feelings to hold back. Nathaniel had been limping by the time he made it back to their room, but things only got bad when Tetsuji found him a few hours later. He’d bruised Nathaniel’s back and hands on the same spots that were just finishing healing, not enough to make it impossible for Nathaniel to grab onto his racket at tonight’s game but not so easily that he wouldn’t have to make an extra effort to maintain his usual performance.

Nathaniel hid his bandaged hands under his thighs and fought the grimace that came with the pain. Ellie stopped talking for a moment, but he sent a glare her way in a dare for her to comment on it. She sighed and looked at Jean, then finished the story that she was telling about one of her professors. Once she was done, she shifted on her seat and turned towards Nathaniel completely.

“You’re going to rip your stitches if you play tonight,” she said.

“And that’s a new thing?” Nathaniel asked. “I’m fine.”

Jean scoffed. Before they left the hotel, he’d come by Nathaniel’s hotel room to check how he was doing before a game so important. He’d gone in without knocking and found Nathaniel between Riko’s legs. When Nathaniel went to find him after, Jean had admitted he’d been more shocked by the extent of Nathaniel’s injuries than by the sight of them mid sex. He’d then proceeded to bandage the striker the best he could, cursing the entire time.

“I can’t believe he made you have sex with him in this state,” Ellie rasped. Nathaniel figured Jean had told her about what he’d seen. He sent a glare Jean’s way let him know he didn’t appreciate it. Normally he didn’t mind Ellie knowing about everything that happened at Evermore with himself and Jean, but since this last beating she’d turned particularly angry at Riko’s attitudes. Being mad didn’t do her any good and her constant complaints only served to annoy Nathaniel. In front of him, Jean shrugged.

Ellie went on, “I know you can’t really say no, but maybe if you told him you’re hurting he’d understand. I’ll die of old age before I understand what goes on in that sick brain of his, but at least I know he loves you in his own way. I don’t think he actually enjoys seeing you in pain.”

Nathaniel let out a sarcastic laugh. “Someone should tell him that,” he said, then clicked his tongue. “I don’t really feel like talking about my sex life with Riko, Ellie. There’s nothing any of us can do about it. Now. Go over the Foxes’ stats with me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but let the subject go. She started questioning him about what was most important about Andrew’s game, though it was obvious Nathaniel didn’t need it. He’d grown increasingly interested in Andrew for the past few months and knew how he played. Most games Andrew didn’t care enough to make more effort than necessary to keep him away from the bench, but there were short spans of time during his half in which he played as if he wanted to play. Nathaniel knew that wasn’t Andrew at his full capacity, but that was enough to make him both amazed and worried. Andrew played without committing because he wasn’t gaining from it; tonight, he had every reason behind him.

The thought of Andrew honoring his promise during the game also concerned him. Fights were inevitable for tonight’s match, but usually Andrew didn’t get involved. If he went out of the goal to make the Ravens pay—Nathaniel had given him the names of the players that hurt him—violence would only escalate. Inside the court the most that could happen was Andrew getting carded, but he’d only been let out of his pills a couple of months ago and the Justice System was still keeping a close eye on him.

Ellie closed the window and curtains a soon as they could see the stadium. Even with the entire bus shut out, as they got closer to Castle Evermore they could hear the staccato burst of camera flashes and the excited chants of Raven fans. If there was anyone outside supporting the Foxes, Nathaniel couldn’t hear them. The gates opened for both buses to get in the inside parking lot and the driver stopped as close to the entrance as he could. The Foxes’ bus still hadn’t arrived, but that wasn’t a surprise. Andrew had said their Coach intended of spending the least amount of time possible inside Evermore.

There was a line of security personnel from the bus to the front door when Nathaniel stepped down the steps. There weren’t as many fans in the parking lot, but some more privileged and the press were hounding them and screaming. He forced his camera-ready smile on his face and stopped to sign some autographs. He was thankful when Riko pulled him by his collar and said the coaches wanted to give a final speech before they changed. Nathaniel waved goodbye to his fans and got inside. They weren’t passing through the Nest, but the familiar surrounding made his heartbeat fasten. The pre-game adrenaline was already flowing through his system, but he only became more anxious inside these walls. Nathaniel forced himself to remain apathetic when Riko reached to intertwine their fingers.

The words the Master had prepared sounded more like an order for execution than a motivation speech, but that had been expected. The other coaches picked up where he left off and read one last time the Foxes’ latest stats. Andrew and Kevin were their main concerns, but one of the backliners, Matt Boyd, had a minimal amount of talent. Allison Reynolds, the defensive dealer, was a pretty sight in full makeup and long blonde hair, but she wasn’t to be underestimated. Apart from that, the rest of the Foxes were quite average. Nathaniel barely paid attention to what was being said. He’d studied enough beforehand and knew there was no reason to be concerned about the game in particular. The Ravens were a superior team to the Foxes in every aspect.

Gabriel, the team’s doctor, motioned for Nathaniel to follow him before getting in full gear. He pulled Nathaniel’s pants down and gave him a shot that would extinguish the flu’s symptoms completely from his body. Nathaniel considered asking for some morphine as well, his hands and torso hurting from the stitches and bruises, but he knew what policy was and remained silent about his pain. He was still limping slightly when he got out of the doctor’s office but it wasn’t so much that he couldn’t hide it in front of Riko and inside the court. He finished putting on his gear then leaned on his locker until they were beckoned into the court.

Riko leaned on his locker beside him, but he was immersed in the night’s atmosphere and thankfully didn’t initiate contact. The two of them watched in silence as the other Ravens finished changing. One of the assistant coaches, Terry, came in after twenty minutes and they formed an Indian line in their usual order. Terry gestured for the Ravens to move then started to where the coaches would sit.

The inner ring was still empty when they got inside, but twenty minutes until serve had the stands completely occupied. It wasn’t a surprise that Nathaniel could barely see orange jerseys from amongst the clad of black of the Raven fans. When the team entered the court, the screams of welcome had his ears ringing. From the first column on the Ravens left, someone raised their hands in a fist and a wave of black formed. When the wave reached the last person on his right, another man shouted and all the people jumped. The building trembled slightly, but Nathaniel knew better than to react to anything in public appearances like this. He stayed in Raven formation until the Master stopped in front of them and started them on laps.

The Foxes arrived ten minutes before first serve and waved at every person in orange they could find. They kept on waving and cheering until finally Kevin shouted at them to start running as well. Nathaniel rolled his eyes at how pathetic and disorganized they were as a team. Even with Kevin’s talent and single-mindedness, there wasn’t much he could do if the Foxes didn’t start treating each other as teammates instead of enemies. Running beside him, Riko barked for him to pay attention to what he was doing instead of looking interested in their rival team. Nathaniel complied and forcefully kept his eyes from wandering to Andrew.

A whistle from the first referee signaled five minutes until the match started. The Ravens stopped their run and gathered in a circle for some last-minute motivation. Riko screamed that they’d crush the Foxes and that Kevin was his for this game. After, they scattered around the court and watched as Wymack said something to his players. The Foxes only took their positions when the referees told them to.

The start of the match was as brutal as expected; at ninety-three seconds a fight erupted between Emmet, the Raven offensive dealer, and Seth, one of the Foxes’ least talented strikers. It was too early into the game to get carded, so no one went to interfere. The referee broke the two of them apart and screamed that he wouldn’t accept a violent game no matter these two teams were rivals. Emmet made a crude gesture from behind him and moved back to his position without getting noticed.

Renee Walker took the first half of the game, so the Ravens went all out on her, not knowing how Andrew would play tonight. Both teams played more brutally than usual, but the number of fights for the first half without Kevin didn’t rise to inexcusable levels. At some point Renee managed a saving that hurt her wrist and the game stopped for a few minutes, but for some reason Coach Wymack didn’t send Andrew in as a substitute. The Foxes’ nurse treated her injury the best she could and applied some pain reliever to make the final minutes of the first half manageable.

The Ravens took advantage of the Foxes’ defense issues and played offense for the seven minutes they still had before halftime. After four consecutive shots towards the goal landed, the Foxes turned more frustrated. Seth clashed with Emmet again and this time when the fight broke, the other players joined in. Nathaniel and Riko were both on the bench already, but they praised not yielding to the Foxes. One of the referees shot them a glare in warning, but he was too focused on stopping the fight to do any more than that. When they finally whistled to signal halftime, the Ravens were winning by a seven-point margin.

Nathaniel, Riko and Jean had only stayed on court for the starting play, so they were all going in at the second half. The Master gathered his players in the locker room and didn’t scold them for the couple of cards they’d gotten. He warned them again about how the Foxes played to peak after halftime and they’d up their game from now on. Thankfully, he didn’t extend on stats and his speech focused more on rousing his players.

This time when the Ravens left the locker room the Foxes were already there, and they were being booed from all sides. The motive of such stirring became obvious once Kevin appeared in Nathaniel’s line of sight. Nathaniel’s stomach bottomed out when Kevin turned to him and clenched his racquet tighter. The last time they’d made contact was when Nathaniel had called to give out the address of the warehouse Andrew had been put in, but they hadn’t really spoken since an entire year ago when Riko broke Kevin’s hand. The images of that night sent Nathaniel’s knees quaking. He could still see Kevin’s eyes when he got locked in the room with only Riko and his two best friends. His screams, first of pain and then of terror, echoed around Nathaniel’s ears even now.

Riko’s pat on his back pulled him out of that memory and he finally managed to take his gaze away from Kevin, who was still staring at him. Nathaniel turned to Riko and leaned in so their helmets were touching. That way, Riko couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“You better be naked in our bed when I get back tonight,” Riko mumbled, his voice rough with adrenaline and desire.

Nathaniel was already wavering, but at hearing those words he felt outright sick. Still, he forced a smile on his face and nodded. Riko didn’t notice his hesitation and put a hand on his shoulder. The two of them only parted when the referees gestured one minute until restart. Riko shot him a terrifying grin and moved to his position on the other side of court.

When Nathaniel stood at the extreme left of the court, waiting for the game to start, his eyes finally found Andrew’s in the goal. He couldn’t see clearly what the goalkeeper’s expression was all the way down at the end of the court, but it was obvious that he’d seen the exchange. His head tipped sideways in question, but Nathaniel simply shook his head. Andrew continued to stare at him, but he didn’t move, not even when the game restarted and the Ravens took the ball.

Aaron Minyard was marking him for this game, but Nathaniel had been practicing all his life against the best backliners in collegiate Exy and bypassed him easily. When Kelsey, the defensive dealer, passed him the ball, Nathaniel only had to run a few paces to catch it. When Andrew noticed it was he who was holding the ball, he finally moved into a stance and started paying attention to the game. Nathaniel feigned left and went right, but Andrew was good enough not to fall for it. He jumped in an impossible save and threw the ball to Seth, already on the other end of the court. Nathaniel cursed and went running towards the ball. By the time he made it to where the play was happening, however, Seth had already made the goal.

Around him the crowd booed, but Nathaniel could only focus on Riko coming his way. The game wasn’t waiting for them, so Riko only ran past him and shouted, “What the fuck was that?” The two of them assumed positions again and this time when Kelsey got the ball she shot it towards Riko. Andrew defended the ball again, but he didn’t manage to hold on to it. Nathaniel ran and scooped the ball where it had fallen. He put so much force at the shot towards the goal that he felt the stiches on his torso ripping, but at least this time the Foxes’ goal lit red. Andrew growled from where he was standing and Nathaniel shot him a savage grin.

The next ten minutes went on brutally and more balanced. Though the Ravens were a superior team to the Foxes, Andrew was making this the game of his life. He didn’t manage to shut out the goal completely, but Kevin and Seth had scored the Foxes three points and the Ravens had only made one. At Kevin’s third goal, the Ravens finally broke. Ellie threw a punch at Kevin, who didn’t bother pulling his own hits at her. Riko took the opportunity and ran towards the commotion. Nathaniel looked wide-eyed back at the goal and saw that Andrew was moving. He didn’t notice he had started walking until he evened his pace with Andrew’s.

He tried to get Andrew to see this was what Riko wanted, but whatever sense of protection Andrew had over Kevin kept him from seeing the truth. The referees were already trying to break apart the fight but they put extra attention to it when they saw the goalkeeper moving towards them. At last, one of them pulled out a yellow card at Ellie and promised to give them all red ones if they didn’t stop. Riko growled in annoyance, but he couldn’t afford to be taken from the game. He stumbled back and wiped his bleeding lip with the back of his hand.

Nathaniel hadn’t seen what happened in the fight, but it soon became obvious that it hadn’t been the usual mid-game brawl. Ellie had escaped almost harmless after a few punches from Kevin. The real fight had happened between the ex-partners. Riko’s hands were covered in some blood, but Nathaniel couldn’t see any real injury in him beside his already bruising knuckles. It shouldn’t surprise him Kevin had cowered instead of fighting back, but when he looked at Kevin’s state on the ground the image was familiar enough that almost emptied his stomach out in the middle of the court. Beside him, Andrew had gone still and was watching as their team nurse rushed into inner ring to check on Kevin.

The Foxes were surrounding their striker, so Nathaniel couldn’t really assess the damage, but it wasn’t as bad as he initially thought. After a minute or so Kevin was hauled back up and given the okay to keep playing. There was a large piece of gauze stuck on his left cheek and bruises forming on his neck and forearms, but he only limped a couple of times before getting his balance back. The referee only seemed to notice how bad the fight had been when he saw Kevin’s state, but by then it was too late to card Riko. He motioned for the game to go on and ignored the booing from the small but fierce crowd of Foxes fans.

Andrew went slowly back to his goal, but he seemed more focused than he was before. There was only fifteen minutes left in the game and the Ravens were still winning by a considerable margin, but it was impossible not the notice the change of pace. Though the players playing for the Ravens team hadn’t been playing an entire match like the Foxes’, they were growing tired of having their plays intercepted by Andrew. More than once Emmet and Kelsey tried to start up fights with him, but every time he simply dodged them and flicked them unimpressed looks. The nonchalance should have been an act, except they all knew the kind of person Andrew was. That even now he remained unaffected only served to make the Ravens even more exasperated.

The Master looked enraged when he asked for a couple of substitutions, but he didn’t bother to do much else than flick a cold look at the players in the court. Nathaniel batted racquets with Henry and Devan, both players who were obviously supposed to make the game more offensive. The pause was enough for the Ravens to regain their confidence and they went full force on the Foxes. With so many shots at the goal it was only a matter of time before the Ravens started scoring again. Andrew was also growing tired, so after a while he didn’t have enough energy for his impossible saves. The Ravens raised their margin to seven points again.

Three minutes left on the clock the game came to a halt when Nathaniel fell in the middle of a play. He’d just received the ball from Devan and was close enough to the goal to take the shot, but gathering the impulse necessary for the throw was what broke him. Nathaniel faltered when he went forward a step and put too much weight on the leg that Tetsuji had beaten the most with his heavy. Keeping his yelp of pain at a low volume demanded too much effort, so when he fell down on the ground all he could do was hold his bruised calf and crawl into a fetal position.

He wasn’t far away enough from the goal that Andrew didn’t notice it. Before any other Ravens could make it to where he was fallen, Andrew appeared and shielded Nathaniel’s body with his own. He dropped his oversized racquet carefully then crouched down to check on the striker. Nathaniel had tears in his eyes from the pain and could barely see Andrew’s expression, but he could hear the huff of indignation Andrew let out. He tried to tell Andrew not to do anything stupid, but he was focusing on getting accustomed to the pain so he could keep playing.

It took another moment for Andrew to calm down, and when he did, he batted Nathaniel’s hand away from his calf. He pulled Nathaniel’s sock down and his shorts up to surveil the damage. The beating was recent enough that the bruises were only now starting to yellow, and Nathaniel had stared at himself long enough in the mirror trying to figure out ways to hide them to know how bad they looked. Andrew’s breathing lost rhythm as he gave Nathaniel an once-over and saw the bruises he hadn’t been able to hide.

Nathaniel was about to say something when Riko crouched down next to Andrew to play the part of concerned boyfriend. When he looked at what Andrew was inspecting he let out a hiss and opened his mouth to scold Nathaniel for wavering. Andrew kept him from speaking by putting a hand over his knee.

“I’m going to have fun cutting you up,” he said.

Riko gave him a bored look and slowly took Andrew’s hand away from his knee. He said, “I’ll kill him if you ever so much as lay a hand on me again.” Then he turned to look back at Nathaniel, who was still on the ground but had managed to get control over himself again. “You’re a disgrace to this team. Get up. Get _the fuck_ up,” he pushed when Nathaniel didn’t immediately obey.

Andrew looked like he was about to say something, but Nathaniel stopped him with a wave of his hands. He didn’t accept the hand Andrew was offering to help him up, either; he knew it would only make things worse with Riko. Ignoring the increasing pain, he got up from the ground and then turned to the crowd. He raised his fists up like he was celebrating the fall had only been a misstep then took his racquet from the floor. The referee gestured for Andrew to pick up his own and then grab the ball.

Despite what Riko was obviously expecting of him, Nathaniel held back from running and let the other offensive players get to the opposite goal before him. The rest of the game consisted of illegal checking and more than one fight broke out in the two and a half minutes left. By the time the clocks stroke ninety-seven minutes all the players were tense enough that they skipped the handshakes. Nathaniel could feel Andrew’s gaze on him as he walked slowly to the locker room, but he didn’t have the courage to look back at him.

Once he was out of sight from cameras, he let his body feel the pain and went limping towards the closet bench he could find. There was no position that was better; sitting made the backs of his thighs shake with the pain and lying down did the same to his back. He didn’t even have what it took to take off his helmet; Ellie did it for him when she entered the locker room. This wasn’t the time for one of her famous “I told you so” speeches and she knew it, so she only gave him a knowing look before continuing on her way to the girls’ bathroom.

The other Ravens walked in after her and only a couple of them bothered with a glance at Nathaniel. Their adrenaline was high and already there were plans of a get-together in one of the dorm rooms. They knew Nathaniel could listen to them, but they didn’t bother keeping their voices down. Roman and Jones, who had both transferred and therefore had a lot more freedom in leaving the Nest, had bought an entire shelf of alcohol and were willing to share with their teammates. They didn’t need to point out that Nathaniel wasn’t invited; the Perfect Court barely socialized with the rest of the Ravens.

Before Nathaniel and Riko started dating and before Kevin left, the Perfect Four’s routine after games consisted of getting drunk in one of their rooms and rewatching the night’s game. At some point they turned pointing out each other’s flaws into a drinking game, but only once Riko was drunk enough that he didn’t feel like punishing them for costing them goals. By the end of those nights Kevin was usually too drunk to stand up to his feet and walk back to his and Riko’s dorm, so it had already become pre-established that he’d sleep in Jean and Nathaniel’s dorm on game nights.

The nights had stopped happening after Riko broke Kevin’s hand and the Perfect Four turned into Perfect Three. Riko went alone to his room and Jean and Nathaniel didn’t normally have the energy to stay up and get drunk. After Riko and Nathaniel’s relationship evolved into dating they’d begun sneaking out of the locker room and enjoying of the privacy of their dorm. It had become routine enough that the other Ravens knew better than invite them to get drunk.

Nathaniel had joined in one of their private parties once when Riko caught a flight after a game, however. It shouldn’t have surprised him the Ravens didn’t actually socialize so much as they sat in isolate corners of the room and passed around bottles of alcohol. He’d left the room around the time some of the Ravens started getting physical. The Ravens weren’t allowed to date, so they let out their sexual frustration through each other. Nathaniel had heard enough stories about that to know when it was his time to leave.

Tonight, Nathaniel knew there would be no celebration for him. His faltering and overall performance in the game guaranteed it. Riko didn’t care that he’d been responsible for seven goals because he knew Nathaniel could have scored a lot more if he’d been at the top of his game. The certainty of the punishment should have served to calm him down a little, but Nathaniel’s heart was beating hard enough that it hurt.

Jean was the last Raven to enter the locker room and stopped in front of him, but he obviously didn’t want to talk. Both of them knew what was to come once Riko finished with his interviews. Jean hauled Nathaniel up from the bench and half-carried him towards his locker. He took one of Nathaniel’s towels then stripped him of his gear, leaving him only with his jersey, shorts and socks to hide the bruising. Though all of the Ravens knew of the Master’s punishments, there were some who weren’t aware of the extent it could take. Even less knew about Riko’s hobby of torturing the players he owned. They waited until all of the Ravens had left towards the Nest where they’d be moving back in tonight, then Jean gestured for Nathaniel to strip. Nathaniel managed to take off his jersey, but his calf was hurting too much for him to bend down. Jean sighed then pulled his shorts and underwear down. Nathaniel stepped on the tips of his socks to take them off and watched as Jean turned on one of the showers.

Jean was efficient in showering him, even bothering to wash his hair, and in supporting him to his locker where he bandaged Nathaniel’s injuries and helped him dress. This had happened too many times with both of them for him to feel humiliated. Jean dropped Nathaniel on one of the benches then went to take his own shower. Riko’s interview had probably already ending, but he wasn’t anywhere in the locker room.

After ten minutes Jean and Nathaniel realized Riko wasn’t coming and limped back towards Nathaniel’s room. The door was open and the light was on when they got there, so they both tensed and prepared for whatever was waiting for them inside. Nathaniel still had it in him to mumble an apology, but Jean didn’t acknowledge it. It was impossible to tell whether the backliner was angry.

Riko and Tetsuji were waiting by the bed when they got inside. Fear was ice cold in Nathaniel’s stomach and Jean held him when a shudder went through his body. At the rise of one of Tetsuji’s eyebrows, they parted from each other and Jean turned to lock the door behind him, already knowing what was to come. Nathaniel expected they only hit him tonight, but he honestly wasn’t sure how his body would take another beating when he could barely stand on his own.

The concern clearly wasn’t shared, because the Master took a swing with his cane at full force without hesitation. Nathaniel gripped his stomach to keep from getting sick but all the air rushed out of him. He was already weak and the swing caused him to fall on his knees pathetically. He looked up at Tetsuji’s unmovable face and kept his mouth shut for the next three hits. At the fourth, an unavoidable scream fell from his lips and only earned him another swing. Nathaniel tried to suppress the screams erupting in his throat, but he’d already been in too much pain and the Master was hitting where he knew there were previous bruises.

“Didn’t I tell you once what would happen if you let the bruising get in the way of your performance?” The Master asked in a scornful tone.

Nathaniel gritted his teeth to keep from screaming even now, but Tetsuji didn’t give him the time to get used to the pain. He saw the cane come up again and had the time to hold himself, but the Master hit the side of his head instead of his torso. Nathaniel froze in shock then brought his hand to where he’d just been hit. Tetsuji took it as an opening and continued hitting him on the chest. Nathaniel’s ribs were still not completely healed and these swings made sure his progress went back to zero. Once the striker had curled up in a ball and was seconds away from turning blue, the Master stopped hitting and waited for him to restart breathing.

“Are you deaf? Did I hit your ear by accident?” The Master spat on the ground beside Nathaniel. When the striker didn’t answer, not because he didn’t want to but because he still hadn’t gotten enough air back in his lugs, Tetsuji crouched down and grabbed his chin hard. Nathaniel cried out in pain, but Tetsuji didn’t yield. He pressed Nathaniel’s face down on the ground where his spit had landed and rubbed the boy’s injured cheek in it. He said, “Answer me, Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel didn’t know he mastered the energy to speak. He whispered, “No, Master, you didn’t.”

“Do you have a memory problem, then? Have you forgotten about our little talk?” His rage made his accent more accentuated. “What happens if you let the bruising get in the way of your performance? When you fall down on the court like the pathetic child you are? When you humiliate your coach and turn yourself into a motive for jokes?”

“You get more bruises until you learn to deal with it,” Nathaniel said. He and the Master had had that conversation more than once before when he was growing up and learning how to play after a beating. Back then he’d gotten angry at the man for forcing him to learn how to ignore his pain; had wanted to rip his throat out and let it hang from the door of his magnificent office. Now, all the fight had extinguished in him. Nathaniel only felt pain, and fear, and humiliation.

Tetsuji hummed in appreciation of hearing his words repeated, but he didn’t stop hitting Nathaniel until every single part of his body felt like it was three seconds from being ripped out. Tears rolled free from the striker’s eyes even if they were shut. The Master hissed in scorn at the sight, but he couldn’t make Nathaniel stop crying. He hit Nathaniel on the thigh with his cane over and over again, in a way that would surely leave a striped pattern of bruises.

At some point Tetsuji moved back and Nathaniel thought that would be it, but he was only stepping away so Riko could continue. Riko was crueler but his hits weren’t as hard as a wooden cane’s. When he noticed Nathaniel’s screaming had decreased, he pulled out a knife from the waistband of his jeans and grinned wickedly. Nathaniel thought Tetsuji would remind Riko not to cut his face too deeply, but then he remembered it’d be a while until the next time he’d appear in public. That meant Riko had a free pass to do anything that he wanted.

Thankfully he didn’t have much to do with at the dorm, so he kept to his knife and the brass knuckles that he usually reserved for Jean. Nathaniel had never taken a punch with them and he wasn’t prepared for the new amount of pain they brought. Riko quickly forgot about the knife after a few cuts and came to the conclusion he preferred physical contact. At some point he got to biting Nathaniel to “leave a mark”, but those words gave him an idea and he went back to search for the knife. Nathaniel was relieved for the break until he realized what Riko intended to do. He shot a desperate look in the Master’s direction, but the Master had already left the room.

At the sight of Nathaniel’s desperation, Riko started cooing and sucked a too-harsh bruise under his ear before mumbling about letting the world know—letting _Andrew_ know—who Nathaniel really belonged to. He started cutting up on Nathaniel’s chest just under his left shoulder and Nathaniel shut his eyes both because of the pain and because he didn’t want to acknowledge this was happening. The pain was so excruciating he felt himself wavering from time to time, but Riko pinched him before he could pass out every time. Once he was done marking Nathaniel, Riko started rambling on how this was a long time coming. It wasn’t just Nathaniel faltering during the game tonight, he explained; it was the lying that he was having his lessons and going other places, the sneaking around to meet with Andrew, the blackmailing to keep Proust away from Andrew and the familiar way Andrew had touched him tonight at the game. Nathaniel tried to explain there was nothing between them, but Riko punched him with his brass knuckles every time he opened his mouth.

“Who is your King?” Riko asked, like he asked every time he beat someone up.

Nathaniel had been through this too many times to fight it. He said in a scream, “You are.”

That satisfied Riko, but not in a good way. Riko smiled impishly and put his hand on the side of Nathaniel’s face that hadn’t been hit by Tetsuji’s cane. His touch was gentle amidst the violence and Nathaniel wasn’t fast enough to stop himself from flinching when he realized Riko was going to kiss him. Riko’s grin disappeared and he pushed away from Nathaniel so that he was straddling his thighs. The position made it easier for Riko to punch him in the face over and over again, the brass knuckles making more damage than usual.

The punching hurt and blood had fallen over his eyes so that he couldn’t see. Nathaniel had been punished after games times enough that he knew it was better if he remained still, but Riko wasn’t stopping. The punching increased when he began squirming, like Riko was thrilled about it. Nathaniel was faintly aware of Jean saying something from where he was standing by the door, but he couldn’t make sense of it as he finally slipped into unconsciousness, feeling glad that at least now the pain would stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on the bright side, it isnt long until this is over whoop whoop


	13. 1-12-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this on mobile in between four-hour long study sessions, study groups, all-day classes and naps haha i hate pre-med
> 
> in other news, this is 9k and only half angsty

Nathaniel woke up to an alarm ringing, but the sound wasn’t the one he’d programmed for his phone. He opened his eyes in confusion and closed them immediately. For a moment, he didn’t understand what was so wrong with him that he was incapable of opening his eyes all the way without pain soaring down his body. Then fragments of last night came back and he let himself weight down on the bed in a mix of cowardice and resignation.  

The stoppage of the alarm made him aware that he wasn’t alone in the room, wherever that was. Nathaniel’s heartbeat fastened at the thought that Riko might be there with him. Normally, Nathaniel could stomach seeing him after a beating because he was quite good at pushing down his own feelings until he let them out all at once, usually through the consumption of a large amount of alcohol. Today, however, if he was forced to pretend that Riko’s presence didn’t send his stomach hurling, Nathaniel was sure he’d be done for by the end of the week.  

His first attempt at moving was unsuccessful, but Nathaniel linked it to sleep rather than to the beating from last night. The simple act of turning his hands into fists took more time than he thought honorable, and was a lot more painful than he was expecting. Nathaniel was glad for discovering he still had a grip, though, even if it meant his body shook in pain.  

The worst part about the entire situation, Nathaniel figured, was that he wasn’t sure whether this pain was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. He remembered a particular weekend at his father’s home when he was fifteen and had tried to act out in typical adolescent manner. Nathan had locked him in a room and sent Lola in to teach him to never misbehave again. Nathaniel couldn’t tell if he’d felt as bad then as he did now, but those couple of days had left a mark as the worst couple of days of his life. As he processed the lingering feeling of numbness in his body—which was a bad sign any day—and his difficulty to breathe, Nathaniel figured that this pain made the last few hours a great runner-up.  

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but he was still at the Nest, the alarm signaled it was five in the morning. He presumed it was only Saturday, but he felt like he could have been asleep for more than a day. Nathaniel suddenly wished he could signal that he was awake, so that Jean could give him the slightest idea of what was happening. It was a routine, with them; whenever one of them passed out during a beating, the other would stay at the bedside as long as it took for them to wake up.  

Nathaniel forced his eyes open again, this time bracing for the pain. He faintly remembered not being able to see last night, right at the end, because of blood pooling over his eyes. Now the blood had been wiped away, but his eyes were swollen enough that he could only see through slits. Opening them hurt, but he knew he’d have to do it eventually. He saw the white ceiling of every Raven dorm and was glad when he didn’t find Kevin’s old glow-in-the-dark stars. Turning his head sent another bolt of pain down his body and Nathaniel was incapable of holding down a hiss, but he immediately relaxed when he saw the familiar posters on the walls of Jean’s dorm. He let himself feel the pain harder. There would be no use pretending he was fine when Jean had seen Riko and Tetsuji hitting him last night.  

He’d hoped the hiss had alerted Jean that he was awake, but no one stirred beside him. Nathaniel didn’t have the strength to speak when he was still processing the extent of his injuries. His shaking hands didn’t help, either, hitting the bed and his mid-thighs and creating even more pain. He thought of Riko hitting them with his brass knuckles last night, and nibbling on his knuckles, and biting the backs of his hands. The images made him sick. He bolted upright, but he screamed before he could get up from the bed. Nathaniel half-registered that the pain he had been feeling before was nothing compared to this. He was already feeling sick, but the pain had him dry-heaving into the ground below him.  

That alerted Jean that he was awake. Nathaniel heard him running to stand beside him, but he still flinched when hands caught at his hair and pushed the longer strands away from his face. The gesture was so unlike Jean that Nathaniel forced himself to turn and look as soon as he’d finished. It was only a half-surprise that Jean was not the person beside him, but Ellie. She was working on tying his hair in a small ponytail that didn’t quite work out—his hair had grown since his last haircut last summer, but the strands barely reached his jaw. Ellie shot him a closed-mouth smile that was so weak that only served to remind him of how bad he must look. Her fingers entwined with the short strands on the back of his neck when he leaned forward to throw up again. Ellie murmured reassurances, but Nathaniel couldn’t understand them.  

When it became clear he was done, Ellie gently pushed him back on the bed again. Nathaniel didn’t try to contain his hiss this time. She pulled her hands away immediately and shrieked that she was sorry, but Nathaniel didn’t blame her. Ellie turned around and came back only a moment later with a wet cloth to wipe at his mouth. Jean wasn’t nearly this attentive when he took care of him, so Nathaniel didn't know how to respond to that gesture. He stayed still and waited for her to finish cleaning him up. He remembered to thank her, but his lips were too chapped and swollen for the words to make much sense. Ellie seemed to understand him anyway and forced a more amiable smile on her face.  

Nathaniel was impressed that she was able to smile so honestly at a time like this. He could have stared at his friend for rest of his life right then, but he couldn’t ignore the change in routine. The pain hadn’t subdued enough that Nathaniel could look around the room, but he did manage to mumble something that resembled Jean’s name. The smile on Ellie’s face disappeared immediately. She pulled a stool from under the bed and sat down. Nathaniel had known her for time enough to know when she was fiddling, but he gave her the time to gather her speech.  

“Last night—” She shook her head. “I knew that after what happened at the game last night, Riko would get to you, so I waited in my room for Jean. Except he didn’t show up, and you didn’t either, and it was two in the morning, so I got worried and went to check, and. I found you two passed out in a pool of your own blood, so I called Keaton, Paul, Emmet and Jack to carry you, but Riko wouldn’t let us take you to the infirmary, so they brought you here. They wouldn’t help me bandage you, and Gabriel and Natalie wouldn’t either—”  

Nathaniel interrupted her. “Jean?”  

Ellie looked like she wanted to be anywhere else right now, but she nodded. She leaned back on the stool just enough so that Nathaniel could see behind her, where Jean’s bed was at the other side of the room. Though his vision was hindered, if he ignored the pain and squinted enough he could just make out a body wrapped in the standard black Raven covers. Nathaniel physically felt his stomach drop. He looked at Ellie with desperate eyes, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the bed, her expression hard to read. She’d been friends with Nathaniel for nearly two years, but she’d met Jean on her senior year of High School when he went scouting with Riko at her hometown. He was her best friend. 

She shook her head and moved her gaze back to him. Ellie was taller than him, but she could be so delicate sometimes. Her face when she looked at Nathaniel made her seem younger than she really was. She rolled her shoulders twice and then the expression vanished. Her voice was almost clinical when she said, “He told me you looked dead last night, and Riko wouldn’t stop punching you. So he told Riko to stop, to get help, but you know Riko. He…”  

“He didn’t stop, and he beat Jean too,” Nathaniel completed. Talking hurt, but not as much as thinking of what Riko might have done to his friend.   

The reality of last night dawned on him all at once. Riko had beaten him many times before, but he’d never not stopped. Nathaniel couldn’t tell whether it came from the pressure of Kengo Moriyama’s imminent death or from jealousy that Nathaniel seemed at least a little familiar to Andrew. Whatever it was, for Jean to have actively intervened, it must have been ugly. He was scared of checking the extent of his injuries, but he was terrified to ask what had happened to Jean. The Frenchman had always taken the worst out of the beatings. Nathaniel wondered if that had happened last night as well.  

Ellie nodded. She said, “Gabriel wouldn’t help either of you—he’s too scared of Riko. But Natalie stopped by. She couldn’t bring a lot of drugs, but she gave you something for you to sleep through the—bandaging—and relocating your bones.” She sighed. “You have two dislocated shoulders, the same three cracked ribs from before, two broken toes, a bruised liver, some sort of injury near your knee and exposed muscle tissue through your chest, neck and back. Most of the knife injuries were shallow, but his—markings—his—on your body—they’ll scar.” You could see her physically pushing the words out.  

Nathaniel shuddered. “How are they like?”  

“They’re in places you can hide,” Ellie said in a decisive voice.  

“I didn’t ask that,” Nathaniel murmured. “I asked, what do they look like.”  

Ellie gulped. She whispered, “The one on your breastbone says ‘#4’ and the one on your lower back is his name.” Her tone was small and she shrunk on herself as she if she expected him to blow up in front of her. The image of it tired Nathaniel. He was angry, but it wasn’t her fault. She had only been trying to help.  

He nodded to let her know he understood, but he pushed down whatever feelings he might have about having Riko’s markings on his body. He was more concerned with the state of the backliner on the bed twin to his, on the other side of the room. Ellie had laid him down in a way that he couldn’t see Jean, but the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one hurt amplified his awareness of the things around him. In the silence of the room, Nathaniel could hear ragged breathing that wasn’t his own. Jean wasn’t moving on the bed, but he must have woken up with the sound of his—or Ellie’s—alarm. Nathaniel let out a sound that resembled his friend’s name and lay still waiting for an answer.  

It shouldn’t surprise him that Jean didn’t answer, but the complete lack of response made him more anxious. Nathaniel didn’t try to sit up on the bed because his pain was still at a maximum, but he directed pleading eyes at Ellie and hoped she could understand what he wanted. Ellie was looking at the other bed again, but she’d obviously heard him. Her lips were parted in worry, and slowly she got up from the stool and started towards Jean. At a certain point between the beds she stopped and looked back at Nathaniel. That miserable expression had returned, but now she didn’t seem so keen on hiding it. A tight smile appeared on her face, but it didn’t seem forced so much as hopeful. She restarted her steps and only stopped when she was inches away from the bed.  

Nathaniel was right; the alarm had awakened Jean. The backliner was still wrapped in the black covers when Ellie stepped close, but she only had to lower them down to see that he was awake. Nathaniel shifted so he was lying sideways and could see them both, but the pressure on his left arm and hip was too much and he let out a yelp of pain. Ellie looked at him in worry, but there was nothing she could do. She stayed by Jean’s side, her hand caressing his forehead in a gentle manner. Nathaniel took a deep breath and dared to look at his friend.  

The first thing that he noticed was that Jean had not taken the worst from last night. Though he was bruised and swollen where Nathaniel could see—the covers had only been pulled to his mid-section and he was wearing a loose wife-beater—he could obviously not compete with the list that Ellie had given of Nathaniel’s injuries. Jean had a patch of hair missing on the top of his head, but Nathaniel knew that had been from a couple of weeks ago. Apart from that, his face was a swollen bruise. Both his eyes were blackened and his nose seemed at least a little out of place. Nathaniel wondered whether Ellie had tried to fix it and came to the conclusion she couldn’t have. It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jean’s body parts didn’t heal the way it should, and it wasn’t so grotesque that people would look at it and wonder about the Ravens’ physicians’ medical capacities. Apart from that, there were a couple of stitches near his eyebrow where Riko had cut him, but it seemed neat and non-permanent. His arms were covered in bruises, both from last night and from the nights before. Nathaniel didn’t mind them. Jean looked bad, but it was obvious that Riko had held back after nearly beating Nathaniel to death.  

Something was obviously bothering Jean, however, and Nathaniel frowned to display his curiosity. Ellie sighed then pulled the rest of the covers down. Nathaniel couldn’t see much from the way he was laying on the bed, but there were small puddles of blood all over the bedsheets. Jean’s legs and thighs were bandaged, but the gauze that was once white had become damp and nearly back from the coagulated blood. Still, not even the bandages could keep Nathaniel from seeing at the mess that was Jean’s thigh. Riko’s name was written in cuts on his inner thigh and under it Nathaniel counted at least five occurrences of the word “coward”. It was so grotesque that he almost threw up again. He wondered if his own marks were like that.  

Ellie pulled the black covers back up so they were covering most of Jean’s body again. She leaned down to leave a gentle kiss on his cheek, but there wasn’t anywhere that wasn’t bruised or bandaged. She settled on a kiss on his forehead. Jean forced a tiny smile on his face, but smiling pulled at some of his stitches. Ellie chastised him for it then got back up. She was standing between both beds and didn’t look like she had the faintest idea of what to do next.  

A trouble expression crossed her face. “I was told… That you should see the Master as soon as you were awake, Nate,” she mumbled. She seemed embarrassed to be delivering such an unreasonable message. “Alone.”  

“No,” Jean started, his eyes widened as much as possible. He shifted on his bed as if he were preparing to stand up and run to the door to block Nathaniel’s path. Ellie gave him a severe look and moved a little closer, intent on keeping him on bedrest for as long as she could. When he saw that there was no way he could get up on his own, he put a hand to his forehead and said, desperately, “Not yet. She hasn’t arrived yet…”  

Nathaniel kept himself from furrowing his eyebrows only because he knew it would hurt. He looked from Jean to Ellie then said, “Is he delusional?”  

“He wasn’t.”  

Jean was shaking his head furiously. “Nate, don’t go,” he pleaded. “Please, don’t go yet. Eleanor can tell the others you’re still asleep. You’ll see. Just wait with me a little longer. She said she’d find a way…”  

“Who said? Ellie?” Nathaniel asked.  

Jean only continued to shake his head, but he seemed more desperate this time. Nathaniel didn’t know what could have triggered this response except for the fear that the Master was still not done with them—with him. Whatever it was, it could wait until Jean had calmed down again. Nathaniel doubted anyone would actually come to check if he was awake, and if they did, he could just pretend. He nodded at Ellie and immediately saw her mumble to Jean that they’d wait a while longer. Jean looked on the verge of sleep already. Nathaniel could use the extra minutes to gather his strength.  

At hearing that his friend wasn’t about to get up and walk into the office of the man who had sanctioned the beating, Jean relaxed on the bed and started on a quiet mumble of thanks. Nathaniel desperately wanted to be able to get up and see for himself the state of the backliner. He felt like an invalid the way he was now. He wondered how anyone could expect him to be up and running after what Riko had done to him. Nathaniel thought for a moment that the Master did not know how badly beaten he had been, but then waved the thought away. There wasn’t much that the Master didn’t know about what happened inside Castle Evermore. He knew about Nathaniel’s state of mind and body; he just didn’t care.  

He called for Ellie once Jean had gone silent again, and the goalkeeper appeared in front of him quickly. Nathaniel noticed for the first time that her hands were still dirty with their blood and that her fingers were trembling. He wished that Andrew had come for her instead of him and made her promises. Nathaniel had gone through a lot since he’d first started living in Evermore, but he had his father’s deal with the Moriyamas to make Riko pull the punches. Riko only rarely put his hands on Ellie, but she had suffered in more ways than a beating. Nathaniel remembered what Ellie had said to him after she’d first learned he and Riko had had sex.  _We shouldn’t get it, but we get it_ , she’d said.  

Now she stood over him with worried eyes and pulled the hairband from his mess of a ponytail. She was smiling the same hopeful smile from before as she pulled his hair away from his face and carded her fingers through it to get rid of any knots. Nathaniel hummed with the gentle touch. For months now, the only time someone touched him in any way that wasn’t hard-edged was Riko, and that was only because he had completely different intentions. Ellie didn’t want anything but for him to feel better. Nathaniel didn’t understand what made her this kind to him when he hadn't spoken to her in at least a week, too stuck in his own head to remember his friends.  

Once she was done, she hummed in curiosity of what he’d wanted of her in the first place. Nathaniel took a deep breath, ignoring the way it made his chest hurt. He’d hurt his ribs again, he remembered her saying. He said, “Help me get up.”  

Ellie immediately looked back at Jean. “He asked—”  

“I know what he asked. I’m not going to the Master’s office. I just want to make sure I can actually stand. And,” Nathaniel said, with a quirk of his lips that was more for her sake than his own. “I need to go to the bathroom.”  

Ellie looked uncertain for another moment, then nodded. She pulled the covers to his feet and Nathaniel saw that he was only in his boxers. His bedsheet, like Jean’s, had spots of blood on it, but his gauzes were still white. Nathaniel figured that was because his bandages were looser than the backliner's; his injuries were worse and needed airing. He didn’t take a moment to study himself and his cuts and bruises, because he knew that if he did, he might lose his calm before a meeting with the Master. Nathaniel simply looked at Ellie, signaled that he still wanted to get up, and willed his legs to move.  

Ellie was already expecting his weight when he inevitably fell in her direction. She let out a huff at having to support him and sat him down straight again. Nathaniel tried to remain sitting without swaying, but it was impossible. He’d only moved his legs enough so that they wouldn’t get in the way of him getting hauled up, but the pain excruciating. Nathaniel hid his face in the crook of Ellie’s neck to stifle a cry of pain and listened as she cooed him the way his mother used to do when he was very little. The memory steadied him. When Nathaniel moved again, he was more prepared for the pain. Ellie put all her strength into pulling him up from the bed, letting out weird sounds as she did so, but finally managed to get him up.  

Having to leave the door to the bathroom open in case he fell was a little humiliating, but Ellie gave him all the privacy he needed. Nathaniel considered not washing his hands once he’d turned on the sink. He could see exposed skin on the backs of his hands where Riko had bitten down, but the rest of his hands was all covered in bandages. Pulling them one by one hurt, but not as much as letting the water fall over his hands. Nathaniel had to bite his lip to stifle another hiss.  

Ellie bandaged his hands again once he was out. It was weird being taken care of by someone other than Jean, but the clinical way Ellie handled him helped. She didn’t avert his eyes when their gazes inevitably crossed, but didn’t linger on them either. She checked his most urgent injuries and replaced some of the gauzes that needed changing. At some point she offered to take him to somewhere with a mirror, but Nathaniel shook his head. He’d already decided to see what he looked like only when he was alone. Ellie accepted that without objection then moved to take some clothes out of Jean’s closet. Jean was much larger than him, but they were looking for baggy clothes, anyway. By the time they were completely done with dressing Nathaniel and hiding whatever bruises could be hidden, Jean was in deep sleep.  

It was the perfect opportunity to slip away, but leaving Jean unattended in case he woke up seemed wrong. Ellie told him to wait a minute then went out into the hall. She came back three minutes later with Keaton in tow and gestured to the lump that was Jean on the other side of the room. Keaton looked uncomfortable, but he was one of the Ravens who were Moriyama property and could relate to Jean’s situation. Ellie thanked him with a tight smile and came closer to Nathaniel. She put an arm around his torso where she knew would inflict the least amount of pain. Without another word, she started on half-dragging Nathaniel out of the room and into the Master’s office.  

They had just finished the first flight of stairs when it became imminent something was wrong. There were Ravens in the lounge room and near the dining room entrance like in every other morning, which rendered them both concerned and scornful looks. When they moved past the living room and up the hallway to the stairs that led up to Tetsuji’s office, guards talked to each other and didn't bother glancing at them. Everything was the usual, but both Nathaniel and Ellie could feel, as soon as they made it to the bottom of the stairs to the second floor of Castle Evermore, that they would find trouble when they made it into the office.  

They were wrong. As it turned out, trouble found them. Ellie had already gone up one step and was leveling Nathaniel to it when hurried, hushed voices echoed down the stairs. Whoever was speaking was obviously in the hallway in which Tetsuji's office was in, but they were close to the stairs. Nathaniel wondered whether they should turn back and saw that Ellie was wondering the same thing. The people didn't wait for them to decide. The words got louder even though the two of them didn't move. The people were coming down the stairs and would find them easily.  

A wave of nervousness swept through Nathaniel and made him hold on to Ellie harder. It would be two weeks until his next public appearance, more than enough for the swelling to disappear, but there would be consequences if someone other than the Ravens saw him the way he was now. Ellie seemed to think of the same thing and threw herself in front of him just as the door at the top of the stairs opened. Tetsuji was the first out, his expression severe even before he spotted them. When he did, he stopped walking and tried turning around. Whoever was behind him didn't let him. Nathaniel heard more mumbling, and then Tetsuji was turned towards them again, walking down a couple of steps so that his guests could walk through the door as well.  

Nathaniel had some difficulty seeing from atop Ellie’s right shoulder and with the distance between them and the top of the stairs, but once the man had walked down some steps to let more people through—Nathaniel didn't know how many people there were—he became easily recognizable.  Louis Andritch, the president of Edgar Allan, looked at Ellie with a forced smile on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, probably to send her away, but then his eyes focused on Nathaniel behind her. Ellie was taller, but she couldn’t hide him and support him at the same time. Andritch’s eyes widened when he saw the bandages on Nathaniel’s face and he gestured for Ellie to get out of the way. Ellie did so with some reluctance, and only moved so they were side to side. The larger portion of his weight was still leaning on her. 

Nathaniel still hadn’t seen for himself what he looked like, and Andritch’s reaction didn’t encourage him. Andritch was a grey man in his fifties and always looked ready to storm into a fancy suit-and-tie event. His eyes were swollen with sleep—Nathaniel doubted the man had a habit of being awake at five in the morning—but he dressed as elegant as ever. Still, as he looked at the striker at the bottom of the stairs, his elegance disappeared all at once. His face turned red and he was at Tetsuji’s side in an instant, whispering angry words that Nathaniel wished he could have heard. 

Ellie shot him a look of both curiosity and fear, but Nathaniel didn’t return it. His gaze was focused on the top of stairs where more people were coming down. He tried to recall who had the authority to be going around Evermore without a forewarning—and Tetsuji had definitely not known about this visit—and came up empty. He held onto Ellie’s shoulder so he could get on the tip of his toes without collapsing and ignored the pain. From the door were coming up a small woman in a fancy suit who Nathaniel knew to be Andritch’s wife and assistant and a droopy-eyed guard who looked bored rather than ready for a fight. He leaned back down on the balls of his feet and was ready to be dragged back to his room until Tetsuji had gotten the situation under control when the door opened again. Nathaniel couldn’t see much from where he was standing, but he could see the top of a platinum-white head on the first step. There was only one person he knew that had hair like that, but he refused to believe Renee Walker had come all the way from South Carolina to stir up problems with the Master. 

Nathaniel pushed Ellie further from him so he could see the gathering of people at the top of the stairs and ignored her sour look. Her arms tightened around him like she was scared he’d run off. Nathaniel considered it, but he wasn’t sure which direction he’d go. Lying down under his covers until Renee went away seemed like a good idea, but he was itching to stomp in front of her and ask what exactly she thought she was doing. Because he couldn’t make up his mind, Nathaniel stood still and watched as Renee came down the first steps. She looked like she had looked every other time he’d seen her, calm and collected and Nathaniel didn’t buy it for a second. He wanted to walk over to her and make her give up her insufferable façade, but he could still feel the Master’s attention on him. 

Renee seemed ready to start talking, but the door hit her once and she looked back to where someone was talking to her. Nathaniel didn’t see what happened next; Renee had gone back a few steps and she was just out of his line of sight. Frustrated, he tried to push himself to the next step, but Ellie wasn’t ready for it and didn’t let go of him initially. The pain of moving his legs combined with the bruises and cuts stuck under Ellie’s hands was finally too much and Nathaniel fell on all fours as soon as Ellie detached herself from him. He gritted his teeth and immediately tried to get back on his feet, hating the attention he was getting from all these people who could do nothing but pity him. He braced himself for the pain and pushed from the steps, but a hand at the back of his neck kept him from moving further. Nathaniel looked up with a frown and wondered how he’d missed someone coming down the steps to crouch next to him. He opened his mouth to snap at the person, but all coherent words died in his throat when he realized it was Andrew beside him. 

He suddenly remembered Andrew’s promise from yesterday.  _I’m going to enjoy cutting you up_ , he’d said, but Nathaniel hadn’t thought it was serious. Looking into Andrew’s eyes now, he wondered how he could have ever thought those words were spur-of-the-moment anger. Andrew and Riko had hated each other for months now, but in Andrew’s mind Riko hadn’t taken the first move until yesterday. It didn’t matter that he’d nearly had him killed a few months ago; Andrew paid little regard to what was done to his own person. Seeing the bruises in Nathaniel last night at the game had been the breaking point. 

Andrew’s hand on his neck was a grounding weight, but Nathaniel wasn’t interested in putting up a show. From the corner of his eye he could see where Tetsuji was still beside Andritch. He couldn’t see what the Master’s expression looked like, but the stairs had become silent apart from Nathaniel’s ragged breathing. When all the other people left and it was just the two of them, Nathaniel could only barely imagine what would happen to him for faltering in front of the president of the university. Trembling, Nathaniel pushed Andrew’s hand away from him and leaned on Ellie’s legs in the need of help. Thankfully Ellie understood what he wanted and hauled him up with some effort. The pain was still too much that he couldn’t stand on his own, but if his weight was tiring her, she didn’t complain. In front of them, Andrew’s eyes were still focused on Nathaniel, but he hadn’t moved at all. 

There was silence for only a few more moments before Andritch had had enough. He turned to Nathaniel and addressed him for the first time. He said, “Mr. Moreau, please return to your dorm room and pack all your things. When you’re done, come up to Coach Moriyama’s office.” 

“Mr. Andritch, that’s Nathaniel Wesninski,” Renee said from behind him. 

Andritch’s eyebrows furrowed and he turned to face her. “What’s the meaning of this? You specifically told me Jean Moreau was injured.” 

Andrew finally said something. “He’s obviously not the only one who’s injured. Bring precious little Riko out here. I’m sure he’ll come up with a great explanation for this.” 

“I told you he was beaten after he tried to protect a teammate,” Renee said, sharply. She seemed to be struggling to let the words out. “He didn’t tell me the extent of the teammate's injuries. I didn’t think…” 

“Obviously,” Andritch said. He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, then turned to Tetsuji. “Coach Moriyama, I hope you know Edgar Allen will not tolerate this. Send for your nephew and come with me to my office.” He turned to Renee again. “You too, Ms. Walker. Mr. Minyard. And Nathaniel—tell Mr. Moreau to pack and come meet me at my office as well. Bring your friend. Miss—” 

“Eleanor Hatfield,” Ellie mumbled. She was looking down, but Nathaniel could feel her trembling beside him. 

Andritch nodded and, with a sharp, “Coach Moriyama,” turned back around and went through the door. Andrew was still at the bottom of the stairs, but Renee didn’t bother to look at or wait for him. For a moment it seemed as if Andrew wouldn’t move again, his gaze indecipherable, but he stood up once the guard and Andritch’s assistant/wife disappeared from the stairs. His apathetic expression had come back, but Nathaniel could see that it was nothing more than a mask. Andrew’s hands were turning tighter into fists the longer he stared at him and surveilled the damage. Nathaniel suddenly felt stupid for not wanting to look at himself in the mirror. 

He thought Andrew would say something, especially when his gaze lingered on Nathaniel’s chest where the most damage obviously was—his posture made it visible—but the goalkeeper simply hummed mysteriously and started back up the stairs to Tetsuji’s office. Nathaniel didn’t mind being treated with disdain only because he knew it wasn’t true. Andrew wasn’t one for grief and tears, but it had become obvious on Wednesday that he had made his promise to Nathaniel for more than a sense of justice. There was no need to react now when he could retaliate double later. Nathaniel thought that line of thought leaned more on stupidity than psychopathy, but he wasn’t about to start questioning Andrew on why he was offering him protection. 

Ellie didn’t think that way. She said, as soon as Andrew had disappeared through the door, “Does that have anything to do with his visit last month?” 

“Yes,” Nathaniel said. “But I told him not to do anything like this. He’s only going to cause more trouble for me.” 

Ellie hummed. “I don’t think coming here was his idea. Jean said we only had to wait some more until ‘she’ arrived. I think he was just a tag-along to Saint Renee’s rescue mission,” she said, low and bitter, then shifted so that Nathaniel could lean on her and make down the one step.  

The pain from falling down was still peaking, so she had to half-drag him to his and Riko’s room. The fear that Riko would be there was acidic in his stomach, but when they got there, there was no sign someone had even come back to the dorm after the Ravens had carried Nathaniel and Jean out apart from the obvious lack of bloodstains on the floor. Ellie and him shared a look before she laid him down carefully on his bed and opened the closet door to start packing. Nathaniel tried to get up only once, feeling like an invalid, but he felt his stitches ripping as soon as he made the motion to stand. Ellie clicked her tongue and stripped him naked before replacing the gauzes that had stained with blood. When she dressed him it was in his own clothes and Nathaniel felt a lot more proper. Thinking of what was expecting him once he got to the Master’s office made him feel humiliated enough. 

When they were done Ellie helped Nathaniel to her own dorm with one hand and dragged his massive suitcase with the other. Nathaniel was expecting to find Jean still asleep when they got there, but the backliner was already up and had a suitcase of his own in hands. Jean’s injuries weren’t nearly as bad as Nathaniel’s, so he’d managed to do it all by himself and was hunched over his bed, in pain but managing to keep it in check. When the door opened, his head shot up, and Nathaniel could see in his eyes that Jean was nervous. He recalled all the moments Jean had made clear how jealous he was at Kevin for leaving. He was surprised to find out he hadn’t thought Jean would ever have the courage to actually leave. 

Ellie was about to confront him, but Jean broke the silence first. “Is she here?” 

“Yes,” Ellie said through gritted teeth. “She, and that psycho Minyard, and Andritch. Do you have a plan? Do you honestly expect them to just let you leave?” 

Jean’s face whitened. “She brought in— No. She said she’d found a way to get me out that didn’t involve people getting hurt. If this doesn’t work out, the Master will  _kill us_ ,” he half-whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

“You should be—” 

“Eleanor,” Nathaniel scolded. “He made a very stupid decision, but he only did what he thought he needed to do to survive. I—just wish it was only you. She brought Andrew. He won’t let anyone leave without me.” 

Jean’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “You can’t leave. Even if they take you away from here, your father—” He stopped himself and glanced at Ellie. She still didn’t know who the Butcher was and for a moment Nathaniel hated her for her ignorance, but he nodded to let Jean know he understood what was being said all the same. Getting out of Evermore had never been the issue for either one of them. Jean could have left at any point, but he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life on the run. Nathaniel’s situation was even worse with the Butcher in heels for the rest of his life if he ran. Having Renee take Jean out under Tetsuji’s nose was one thing, but Nathan’s business had always been with Kengo. Involving Nathaniel blew things to an entire different proportion. 

There wasn’t anything they could do about it now, so they took their suitcases and made way to Tetsuji’s office. More Ravens had come out of their dorms and were lounging around the living room since there were no classes today, and that meant there were even more people staring as they walked past. From the corner of his eye, Nathaniel saw Emmet and Keaton, who Ellie said had both helped last night. For a second he considered stopping and thanking them, but having them carrying him around didn’t mean that they were doing him any favors. The Ravens had never been about teamwork and camaraderie; they had only helped because keeping Nathaniel and Jean bleeding meant making Riko even angrier and because they were beaten regularly enough to need favors of the same kind. Now, as they watched Ellie and Jean drag Nathaniel through the living room and into the stairs, they didn’t seem concerned rather than curious. There wasn’t anything the Ravens loved more than new gossip on Riko and Tetsuji’s terrorizing moves. 

Walking the steps to Tetsuji's office was trickier than any of them had imagined, but now they had something to gain with reaching the top of the stairs. Ellie had to physically carry Nathaniel midway through with Jean’s help, only so because she refused to give any of the Ravens more to talk about if she asked for their help. Renee’s surprise visit was already guaranteed to give them—her, if they truly were to leave—many bad consequences. If word got out to the others players, Nathaniel didn't want to think about what Tetsuji would have done to her. 

It took them fifteen minutes and six breaks for regathering strength, but they managed to get to the upper floor of Evermore without further injuries. Ellie had Nathaniel lean on a wall to regain his breath and deal with the pain, but he was too worked up to waste time. He only waited for as long as it took to be able to stand straight again then put his weight on Ellie again. She sighed at his stubbornness, but she too was curious about what was waiting for them. This time when they walked she didn't have to drag him down to the office; the nervousness had distracted him from the pain enough that he could take small, slow steps. 

It was only when they opened the door to the office and found everyone sitting and talking that Nathaniel realized he had been expecting a savage demonstration of each of their geniuses. He didn't think he was wrong to think so; putting Andrew, Riko, Tetsuji and Andritch in the same room seemed like something out of a nightmare. 

Andritch was the one to get up at their entrance, his face red as he again inspected  the extent of Nathaniel's injuries. His face was still red and he was sweating; Nathaniel couldn't imagine what being sprung with this kind of information could do to someone like him. He stood still as the man watched him, then move casually to the side when Andritch's eyes turned to Jean. Though he could hear Andritch's breath catching as he looked at yet another injured player, he couldn't make himself care about the reaction. His focus was entirely in front of him where his father was sitting in one of the couches and looking thoroughly enraged. 

Fear was a physical presence clawing at his stomach and making its way to his throat. Nathaniel felt himself sway and his fingers restart trembling. Nathan hadn't been to Castle Evermore in years, since his meetings with Tetsuji had ended by the time of his wife's death, and he seemed like he'd been intent on never showing up at this place again. He barely bothered to put on the mask of a concerned parent on his face; the grin shooting up at the corners of his mouth seemed inevitable. Nathaniel looked back at Jean and saw that the backliner’s face was white with fear as well; though Nathan couldn’t keep him here, there was a big chance that he had men scouting the perimeter and waiting for one of the two players to pass by. 

Ellie was at Nathaniel’s side the moment she saw him take a step backwards. Her voice was concerned and sweet as she let him put his weight on her and asked, “Do you need to throw up?” 

His father snorted from Tetsuji’s desk, but Nathaniel didn’t have the energy to curl into himself at the sound. He leaned on Ellie and faintly shook his head. She looked at him funny but didn’t object; she simply led him to the empty couch—Nathan, Tetsuji and Riko were sitting in the seats by his desk while Andrew, Renee and Andritch’s assistant/wife were on the second couch—and sat down beside him. Jean was slower in his steps, not injured enough to not be able to walk but not well enough to do so without difficulty, and more than once Andritch, looking reasonably at loss of what to do, offered to help him to the couch. Jean declined all his attempts to help, so the man eventually nodded and went to sit at Tetsuji’s chair behind the desk. 

Nathaniel couldn’t possibly imagine what could be said in a situation like this, but apparently most of the decisions and convincing had already been done. Andritch passed his fingers through his grey hair and said, “Mr. Moriyama, it’s come to my knowledge that you have been performing violent hazing on your Raven teammates, and I hope you know that we from Edgar Allan are not willing to accept that. I will personally see that there is an internal investigation into Castle Evermore open, especially regarding the Ravens’ living accommodations and the extensive schedule you and your uncle put your players through. I will not hesitate to take severe actions, as my primary concern is to make this campus as a safe place for all students and if word got out about this, it would be chaos. 

“This is an unprecedented event and could be the end of your career. Do you understand that, Mr. Moriyama?” He stopped for enough time to see Riko’s faint nod, but not the glint of anger in his expression. Nathaniel trembled at the sight of it and what it meant for the Ravens once he was allowed out of this room. Andritch continued, “Ms. Walker here and Mr. Wesninski have agreed not to involve the police and to help enlighten the situation as long as we assure this is not a thing that will continue happen. As you have not allowed your teammates to seek medical help—and I do not believe your sports physician can be considered medical help, not to what I see of their injuries—I’m forced to let them take your players away permanently.” 

“But—” 

“I am not asking for your consent, Mr. Moriyama. Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Andritch asked, his tone severe.  

Riko seemed ready to dispute him again, but the look on his uncle’s face kept him front it. Riko made himself smaller and Nathaniel let himself feel a flicker of satisfaction. There was only one person in the world that could keep Riko in check—and Riko’s lack of caution was the one thing Tetsuji had never overlooked. 

Andritch turned to Nathan. “Mr. Wesninski, I am so sorry for what happened to your son. I hope you’ll be able to take great care of him. Edgar Allan will pay for all medical bills and for anything that you may need—” 

“There’s no need for it,” Nathan said, and even his voice put fear in Nathaniel’s body. Nathaniel looked down at his own lap and at the bandages on his hand. He wondered if Nathan had looked at them and assessed how many more cuts he could make now that he didn’t have to worry about keeping his Exy career functional, or if Nathan had a plan for convincing Andritch to let Nathaniel back on the team. Nathan said, “I’ll take him home and have the best doctors in the state take care of him. I’ll let you know of his recovery. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take my son away. I’ll have a word with you and Riko and Coach Moriyama once I know he’s fine at home.” 

Nathaniel started on his seat. “No,” he said, all air leaving his lungs. 

He hadn’t shared a roof with Nathan since he was ten and had his audition for the Moriyamas, but he remembered what his father could be like. Monthly lessons with his subordinates were bad enough, and he still had the marks of a childhood beside the Butcher. The image of it sent chills down his body. Then, Nathan’s beatings had been proportionate to a child; he wouldn’t hold back at all now that Nathaniel was an adult. Absent-mindedly, Nathaniel ran his hand over his shirt where he knew was the imprint of a hot iron on his right shoulder. It hadn’t hurt in years, but now as he pressed his fingers to it, his body convulsed in pain. He figured that was Riko’s fault and shot him a cold glare even though Riko couldn’t see him. 

He wasn’t intent on making his anger towards Riko show, too focused on the fact that he was actually about to leave Evermore with his father, so he put down his hand over his thigh and forced himself to look at Andrew for the first time since arriving in the office. It didn’t surprise him that Andrew’s eyes were focused solely on him, though his hands were tracing over his armbands and his posture showed that he was more than ready to lash out at Riko and Nathan’s general direction if any of them tried anything. Nathaniel wanted to tell them he didn’t need to worry; they couldn’t do anything because Kengo Moriyama was dying and the last thing the Moriyama Empire needed was a scandal, especially if it came from the second branch of the family. The thing to be concerned about came later than this meeting, when Nathan’s men found him and made him truly sorry for ever thinking of getting Nathaniel and Jean out. 

Andrew had been silent the entire time, but he saw the glimmer of desperation in Nathaniel's eyes. He uncrossed his arms and said, low and bored, like he always did, “You're not taking him anywhere.”

Silence fell in the room as everybody processed Andrew's words. He spoke in such a bland way that it didn't seem like a threat, or at least an order. Slowly, to the people who fully understood the situation, his words made sense. Nathan turned to look at Andrew, his arm slouched over the back of the chair leisurely, in an invulnerable way.

He squinted. “I’d bet a hundred million dollars that you're the Aaron guy who caused my son all that trouble,” he said, in typical Butcher manner, that made Nathaniel's legs shake.

Andrew was unmoved, but his eyes had taken a more intent look at the change of name. Belatedly, Nathaniel remembered Andrew's twin brother, Aaron, and realized what it meant that the Butcher knew to make that threat. Andrew's golden eyes moved to Nathaniel then back to Nathan. “Yes, that's probably me. You've researched me; I figured as much. Maybe you're afraid of what I'll do to your son? You must have caught up to my evil plan by now,” he deadpanned.

“Is it exhausting, I wonder, spending your days in an illusion of grandeur?”

Andrew clicked his tongue. “Ah. Like father like son, I guess,” he said. “Sharp tongue? Maybe you should be careful. One day someone might be done with it and cut if off.”

Nathan could have continued arguing, but he didn't seem thrilled in wasting time exchanging threats with an angry nineteen-year-old. Instead of addressing Andrew, he turned back in his chair and looked at Andritch. “You see, professor; it's these people who want to take my son away from me. Teenagers these days.”

“Yes, yes, well,” Andritch said, uncomfortable. “But there's nothing I can do about Nathaniel's custody. He is not a minor anymore. This is a matter for you to resolve on your own, Mr. Wesninski. Wherever your son wants to go, that's where he'll go.”

Nathan nodded. “I couldn't agree more,” he said, then turned to look at Nathaniel. “Son?” 

Nathaniel was not stupid enough to think that he had a choice in the matter, but he let himself wonder for a moment what life would be like if he left this room with Andrew and never looked back. He imagined life would be good for him, or as good as it could be with him having to tolerate the Foxes and never playing with the Ravens again. Then, Nathaniel realized it was nothing short of a pipe dream; if he went with Andrew, he doubted he'd make it to the airport before his father's men, maybe Lola, found him and made an example out of him. Nathaniel felt his shoulders slumping and ignored the pain it caused him. 

“I want to go with you,” he said quietly. If he spoke out loud, Nathaniel didn't think he'd be able to sound any convincing. 

Nathan smirked like he was proud of Nathaniel for choosing the right option, but it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anything different. He got up from his chair and walked slowly towards his son. Nathan didn't have to put up a show, because it wasn't like anyone in the room had any say in the matter of who Nathaniel left with, so he didn't bother to hide his triumph as he stopped in front of the couch and extended his hand. Nathaniel, who had only touched his father a handful of times since his mother had died, needed a moment to understand what he was offering. He took his father's hand slowly, cautiously, and tried to get up. 

It wouldn't happen, that soon became obvious. Nathaniel hadn't been able to walk properly and wouldn't have the strength to get up on his own—Nathan's extended hand was useless. He said as much to his father and watched as Nathan tried to contain the Butcher within himself. Then, slowly, a fake amiable smile made way to his face. It seemed so out of place that Nathaniel gawked, even as his father hauled him up from the couch in a way that almost seemed like he cared. The bruising grip on his ribs said otherwise. 

Andrew had enough when he heard Nathaniel's inevitable gasp. He got up from the couch, arms tense beside his body, and walked to where he and the Butcher were. Hadn't it been for the setting, Nathaniel would have found the height difference comical. Andrew looked like a particularly petulant child in front of his father, hands splayed over his armbands. The glint of metal showing beneath the fabric reminded Nathaniel of how messy things could get if anyone said the wrong thing. 

Before Andrew could say the first word, Nathaniel started from beside the Butcher and put his hands over Andrew's own. The pain that came from moving almost took him to his feet, but his father held all his weight and kept him from it. The Butcher had curious eyes as he stared between the two players, like he was a cat with two rats and was enjoying watching them play. 

“Don't do anything stupid,” Nathaniel said through gritted teeth. 

Andrew looked at him, bored. “I see you're still a coward. Maybe not so like your father,” he said, mostly for the sake of it. His tone lacked judgement. Nathaniel figured Andrew knew that their situation had just changed; had changed completely since the Butcher entered the building. “There's not going to be any do-over of this moment, Nathaniel.” 

The improbability of the sentence almost sent Nathaniel into a hysterical fit. He understood what Andrew was offering. He was willing to fight if Nathaniel asked him to, but Nathaniel wasn't so cold and selfish to demand it out of him again. He still remembered learning of what his father had let his men do to Andrew at the warehouse. There would be no do-over of that, either. 

He shook his head and looked straight into Andrew's eyes. “Thank you for doing this for me,” he said, and he hoped Andrew would understand what he meant. Thank you for the talks, the honesty, the promises. Today's situation had over complicated an already complicated situation, but Andrew had only been keeping his sub-promise to protect him. It made Nathaniel feel more than nothing for the first time in months. 

Andrew looked angry to be asked to stand down, but maybe he knew this was a battle that he couldn't win. Almost imperceptibly he nodded, then stepped aside to Nathaniel and the Butcher could walk past to the door. Behind them, Jean and Ellie were silent presences, and Nathaniel wished that he could look back at them and say goodbye. He couldn't know what would happen to him now, and this all felt too definitive. 

His pain was too harsh, though, so Nathaniel could only look forward and focus on breathing the way Natalie had taught him when the first injured his ribs. He let his father guide him out of the room and out of the stadium. 

The glowing light of Castle Evermore’s heading letters over the front door caught his attention when he started past the first cars in the parking lot and Nathaniel stared at them as his father carried him, hypnotized and marveled as he watched Castle Evermore for perhaps the last time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A PSA
> 
> i have for a long time talked about my hate for the title 'the seller of souls' so i'm gonna change the title for this fic. i know it's confusing and i just. i'm sorry  
> it'll either be a conspiracy of ravens (which i like but is a little too similar to an already famous fic on ao3) or the raven's nest or a Raven's chance or a raven's liberty. I have a problem w titles lmao. i'll change when i post the next update but just a heads up


	14. 04-01-14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a few important things to talk about before this chapter, so please bare with me.
> 
> first, the title problem: i... hated... the title seller of souls? i've talked to loads of people about it and they convinced me that changing wouldn't be a problem, blah blah. if it is, i'm sorry, but it was stressing me out. so now this is called A RAVEN'S CHANCE.
> 
> second, i am FINALLY on holidays since i finally took my pre-med exams!! which means, i actually have time to write without feeling guilty. i'm excited for the chapters to come since i'm entering the final part, so chapters might not come as scarcely. also, big ass chapters. this one's 14k
> 
> [third, i'm looking for a beta now that i'm gonna start rewriting chapters so if you're up to it please hmu on @patroiclus on tumblr](http://aaronminyard.tk)
> 
> and last but not least, the usual CW: canon-typical violence. this one's nasty. i'm sorry. again  
> this wasn't beta-ed.

 

Edgar Allan played against the Terrapins two weeks after Jean was taken from the Nest, but Nathaniel missed the match in order to lie in a shitty bed and agonize. He hadn’t gone back to the university for four weeks after that morning and there came a point in which he wondered if he ever would again. His contract with the Ravens wasn’t over yet, however, and the Baltimore Butcher wasn’t about to start breaking his promises. By the time Nathaniel had healed enough from all the beatings—Riko and Tetsuji’s and all the ones he’d gotten since he restarted living with his father—he was already back at Castle Evermore. 

Nathaniel had thought things would be different, but he’d underestimated the Ravens’ abilities to turn to a blind eye and focus on Exy when things didn’t go their way. One of the Butcher’s men had dropped him off near campus at lunch hours and by the afternoon Nathaniel was already back at court practicing as if he’d never left. None of his teammates inquired him about what had happened that day at practice, maybe because they’d already squeezed Ellie for information or because they’d been warned not to pry into that situation by the Board. Either way, Nathaniel felt he’d go crazy if no one other than he and Ellie acknowledged Jean’s absence. He shouldn’t have worried; that night after Riko had been pulled into Tetsuji’s office, the Ravens gathered around one of the goalies’ bedrooms and handled the situation the best they could: getting drunk. In a half-hearted attempt at comforting, Nathaniel was offered bottles of vodka and a small space in one of the beds. He’d been great at repressing his feelings about the subject, but by the end of the night Ellie had been half-crying, half-dry-humping Paul. Nathaniel had tried to stop her from going with the backliner to her own room, then occupied only by her, but she had only shot him a cool look. He hadn’t tried to interfere in her life anymore, not even as he watched her welcome a different player into her dorm every night. 

It would be a lifetime before he could understand Ellie’s coping mechanisms, so he let her be and focused on keeping himself together instead. His sessions with the Butcher had doubled and now he had to walk around the Nest and the campus with bruises both from practice and from fighting with his father’s people. Lola had taken to practicing with knives again, too, so atop the bruises his body was full of cuts. 

Nathaniel had thought to never inspect his body for the new scars from Riko’s beating, but his father hadn’t given him the choice and put him in a room full of mirrors for him to get acquainted to his newly-maimed body on the first night he was out of Evermore. According to his father, those first few days he was too bruised up to be played with—and Nathan’s way to have fun had always been with his knives—and so he’d needed to find a new way to teach him a lesson. He’d only been stuck in that room for two days, but now Nathaniel couldn’t stand to look at the image of himself in the mirror without seeing what looked like underneath his clothes. When he changed, he did so quickly and with his eyes averted from his chest; the healing scar of Riko’s 4 still made him nauseous. 

The lack of news about Jean didn’t help ease his nerves, either. Nathaniel had spent the first week at the Nest trying to get in contact with Andrew, but Andrew only picked up the phone once to say he was washing his hands from the backliner’s problems and if Nathaniel wanted to hear about his friend, he’d need to contact Renee. Andrew’s refusal was fuel to his rage, so Nathaniel ended up deleting Andrew’s number from the burner phone. It was a symbolic gesture since he knew the number by heart, but he didn’t feel any more relieved after he’d done it. It only meant he had one less person to talk with now that he’d returned to the hellhole that was the Nest. 

After his and Jean’s disappearance at the game the press had been having a field day, so the confinement inside Evermore was even more suffocating. Tetsuji reinforced the order for the pairs to not go anywhere without each other, no exceptions, which was usual for the Ravens but worrying for Nathaniel and Riko. Riko had tried to complain, seeing as he normally had more freedom than any of the other players, Nathaniel included, but Tetsuji had never been one to yield at Riko’s pleadings.  Nathaniel had thought Riko was angry at the rule because of who he’d be forced to spend time with, but was proved wrong when one night Riko pulled their beds together again and said that, if he had to submit to this stupid rule, at least he was doing it with the man he loved. Hearing he words made Nathaniel sick, but he’d let Riko take him apart even more that night and all the other nights that followed until their trip of California. 

Before everything had happened Nathaniel had dreaded the thought of a New Year’s banquet at SoCal with the annoyingly bright Trojans, but he felt nothing but relief when he boarded the plane to California. Though he knew it meant seeing Andrew, Renee and Kevin all in the same place without somewhere to hide, it meant that he and Riko wouldn’t have any privacy during the three days they’d stay at a hotel reserved especially for this event. The thought of two nights free from Riko’s warmth over him was freeing, and Nathaniel intended on enjoying the breach as much as he could. 

There was no court for the Ravens to practice in while they stayed in California, so they had to find other things to occupy their time with as they waited for the night to turn so they could go to SoCal. At the lobby and games room there was a number of Ravens having beer pong and pool competitions, but Riko had refused to make friends with a team that he considered inferior to him, so Nathaniel was forced to stay in the room with him. They were sharing with another pair, Ellie and her new partner, a striker named Berger, and spent their entire night talking and getting drunk with the two of them. Nathaniel had the distinct impression Riko was testing her on something and wondered if he was finally ready to admit someone else into his Perfect Court now that it was beginning to fall apart. He wished he was wrong. Ellie was the drunkest at the end of the night and Nathaniel didn’t blame her for it. Before their flight to California she’d spent an evening crying on his shoulder and cursing her terrible life for having to pretend she didn’t want to cut Riko to a thousand pieces every time she looked at him. Nathaniel knew exactly what she felt like, having to share with Riko every night and ignore his own feelings about missing Jean. 

Things got better in the morning, despite the upending headache that a night of drinking had caused them and the rest of the Ravens. They all piled up with the other three teams sharing the hotel, the Ravens ignoring the chatter and staying in their own group, as usual, then made their way to the two buses they had rented to take them to SoCal. Evermore was the largest, most developed Exy stadium in the word, but SoCal was a close second. Nathaniel had been to this stadium many times before, but this was only his second time visiting as a Raven player. It made him feel as he had all the other times; the USC Trojans were known for their sportsmanship and even approaching the stadium the atmosphere was lighter, happier, the complete opposite of the Nest. Nathaniel felt completely out of place amidst all the other players smiling and hugging on the parking lot outside. 

They Ravens weren’t interested in camaraderie, so they beelined straight to the stadium’s front doors and sat at their designed table as a whole. The ERC had done things right this time and arranged the seats themselves, so the Ravens were placed with the Jackals, who were known to fight dirty but knew when to keep quiet. The Jackals were already at their table as well, so both teams sat in silence and waited for the others to get inside. 

As the morning progressed, the teams got inside, laughing and dragging chairs to different tables to extend the chatter. It was such a contrast from what had been the banquet at Evermore that Nathaniel couldn’t help but watch as though this was something alien. The players hugged, tapped each other on the back and laughed like they were all great friends. From the corner of his eye Nathaniel saw players the Ravens had nearly recruited and felt jealous of them. Getting rejected by Edgar Allan was a disappointment in a college athlete’s life, but only because they didn’t know what being a Raven really was like. He wished they would have let him go as well. 

A commotion at the front doors got his attention, but he couldn’t see what was happening from his seat. He waited until the laughs and friendly shouts stopped and a line of players walked inside the stadium. For a second Nathaniel didn’t understand what he was seeing; a wave of orange and red and cheers made his still-aching head spin. It became clear, however, when two players, arm in arm, walked past him. Jeremy Knox and Kevin Day were looking at each other and laughing, Jeremy in bright orange and Kevin in Trojan white and gold. When Kevin’s eyes focused on Nathaniel, all amusement fell from face. Nathaniel had seen and played with him at their last game a month ago, but they hadn’t been so close to each other without a barrier of Exy gear in months. Then, Nathaniel had been an object that incited Kevin’s anger; now all there was in the ex-Raven’s eyes was pity and guilt. Nathaniel couldn’t figure out which was worse. 

Nathaniel quickly averted his gaze from his old friend and focused his attention on a loose string coming out of the thigh of his jeans. On his other leg his hand was entwined with Riko’s, sickly, but it had been so long of this that he’d almost grown used to ignoring it. He kept his eyes down until he heard the last of the Foxes and Trojans walk past his table and only pulled his head up when Riko tightened his grip to get his attention. 

“What?” he murmured, disorientated for a moment as he took in the court around him. 

“Don’t give him the satisfaction.” Riko frowned. He was leaning close enough that Nathaniel could feel his breath lightly on his shoulder. “We made him pay last time; I’ll find a way to make him pay the next. Don’t worry,” he said, and kissed Nathaniel sweetly behind his ear. Nathaniel tried not to gag. 

He had thought one good thing to come out of Renee’s surprise visit to Charlottesville would be the end of his relationship, but Riko was fog-headed enough about his feelings that he had transferred all his anger to Jean. In fact, after the rule which said all pairs shouldn’t go anywhere without each other, his obsession became even more prominent. Renee’s warning to Andritch about what happened inside Evermore had incited an internal investigation and there were talks of closing the Nest for good. That meant that Riko was forced to find other ways to release his anger. Through the weeks in which Nathaniel was away he focused mainly on Exy, but as it turned out his libido was his greatest escape route. Nathaniel’s inability to say no made everything snowball; in Riko’s mind, they had never been as in love as they were now. 

Nathaniel had been living with Riko’s advances for months now and had thought he’d become accustomed to them. In some ways that did happen, but then Nathaniel hadn’t been taking the press into account. Since Jean had left, the media focus on the Ravens was at its peak. Because Edgar Allan’s PR team had prohibited questions about the backliner’s departure, their best next point of approach was the polemic relationship between the remaining members of the Perfect Court. Their constant invasion of privacy made Nathaniel feel ashamed and nauseated, but a distraction was exactly what Edgar Allan needed at the moment. Because of it, he’d been forced into press conferences after games and told to act as if there were no problems between himself, Riko and the rest of the team.  Riko didn’t care so much about what the PR team wanted,  but he saw this as an opportunity to rub Nathaniel’s feelings for him on Kevin’s and Jean’s faces. 

Jean wasn’t here now, but Kevin’s constant whispers to his coach and closest friends made clear that everything that happened at this banquet would be passed forward to Jean’s ears. The impulse to get up from his seat and ask about his best friend was sudden and intense in Nathaniel’s gut. He had to bite down on his own lip and look around the court as if he were admiring the decoration to keep anyone from spotting him discomfort; the red and gold banners that honored the Trojans’ greatest players, the multiple trophies for the Day Spirit Award displayed on the walls like it was the most important thing they’d ever accomplished. For a moment, Nathaniel was scornful; they all seemed like over-excited puppies. The arrogance left him gradually, however, as he focused on the laughs between the teams at SoCal and he realized he wanted to be one of the more carefree players as well. 

Once he knew he had gotten himself together, Nathaniel looked back at Riko and gave him a small smile. It was so fake that it was almost a blessing that Riko’s focus had been pulled elsewhere. Nathaniel’s gaze followed his captain’s line of sight and saw that, from the other side of the court, the one indulging Riko in his stare down was Andrew. Immediately, Nathaniel stood up. He felt like a coward for avoiding Andrew like this, but he was still angry about the goalkeeper’s lack of cooperation and he had still not gathered enough courage to acknowledge what had happened the morning Jean left. 

Nathaniel thought of heading for the bathroom, but in a paranoid thought he was afraid Andrew might follow him inside and confront him. He mumbled to Riko that he’d be back then walked towards the nearest door he could find. There was a series of doors around the court where the tables were, but the only one unlocked was a metal one that ended in a staircase upwards. Not caring that he was intruding, he walked up the steps until there was nowhere else to go and he was on the roof. 

He suddenly felt stupid. Andrew had a direct line to him and had been extremely discouraging the one time they had actually talked through the phone. That he wished to speak with Nathaniel to the point of following him into the bathroom seemed unlikely, even more so because he would have tried a more obvious approach in order to annoy Riko if he really wanted to have a conversation. Still, there was no one around and the noise of the court was barely audible here, so he shut the door behind him and went to sit on the edge of the building. 

Absent-mindedly, Nathaniel noted this was the perfect occasion for a cigarette. A long time ago he used to hide a pack and lighter under his coat for times when he needed to escape, but after a particularly brutal hit to the ribs when Riko found him taking a smoke break some time ago, he did not dare to take the extra risk. The last time he’d smoked had been with Andrew when the goalkeeper came up to Charlottesville a few days early to their match, but before that, Nathaniel had been in a year-long abstinence. The smell of cigarette wasn’t so attractive to him as the memories of his mother before everything went downhill on his late childhood. Mary hadn’t been a loving mother, but she’d been the closest thing to a guardian he’d ever had. Nathaniel missed her more than he liked to admit most days. 

Nathaniel wasn’t interested in diving into a pit of nostalgia, so he tried to distract himself from thinking about cigarettes and the smell of his mother. He was the unhappiest with his life than he’d ever been, being the only one in the Perfect Court that hadn’t made it out, but there weren’t many options for him to take at the moment. He looked down on the sidewalk all the way up from the roof of a small building adjourned to the stadium and wondered what would happen if he jumped. It’d be a way out, but he immediately discarded the thought. He was too much of a coward for that to be a real option, and even if he weren’t, everything he’d ever done inside Evermore walls had been in order for him to thrive in the professional Exy industry and leave behind Riko’s shadow. With a sigh, he shut his thoughts altogether and stared straight into the horizon where the sun was just coming up to its highest point in the sky. 

Sitting in self-pity wouldn’t do him any favors and Nathaniel rejected the idea of feeling sorry for himself. Though his life was pretty much a bore nowadays, he could wake up with the certainty that two of his closest friends had made it out and that he was one day closer to ending this hell at Castle Evermore. His best chances were to move forward every day and focus on graduation day. With a sense of newly-found energy, Nathaniel made to get up and only stopped moving because his phone had started ringing in his pocket. He thought it would be Riko, since the call was coming from his regular iPhone, and was surprised when an unknown number appeared on screen; it had the California code and seemed random enough to be from a burner phone. It was unlikely it was one of his father’s people, seeing as they would have called the other phone, but Nathaniel knew better than to ignore calls. With a sigh, he picked up the call and put the phone to his ear. 

“Yes?” He asked, trying to keep the irritation off his voice. 

“Nate—Nathaniel?” A familiar voice said. It was a whisper, so it took him a moment to figure out who was speaking. By the time he’d placed the voice, Kevin had already continued. He was saying, “Where are you?” 

The moment it took for Nathaniel to answer was too much. On the other side of the line, there were rustling sounds and two people angry-whispering. They were speaking in a volume too low for Nathaniel to understand, but eventually the murmuring was replaced by the sound of someone’s breath. Andrew said, “Care to explain why all my calls are going straight to voicemail?” 

“I blocked you,” Nathaniel deadpanned. “I told you I would.” 

Andrew seemed unimpressed. “Hm, that’s cute. Now,” he started. “Since your boyfriend is currently occupied arguing about offense tactics with Jeremy Knox as per request of yours truly, you’re gonna tell me where you are and you and I are going to have a chat. This chat, I warn you already, will involve me dragging you into the Foxes’ bus and will happen on our way to the Hawthorne Muni Airport.” He paused. “This is the part you dramatically scream about not letting yourself be dragged to South Carolina because of your daddy.” 

Nathaniel blinked lethargically. “You won’t do it. You know you can’t protect your family and Kevin if you have the Butcher in tow.” 

“Ah, you let me worry about—What’s that, Nicky?” He asked away from the phone. Nathaniel heard someone saying something in a hushed tone, and then Andrew answering right back. He was just starting to make sense of the words when the phone cut-off mid-sentence. Frowning, Nathaniel pulled the phone away from his ear to check the screen and was only slightly surprised to find out that Andrew had hung up. 

He sighed. Going downstairs had been a good idea a few moments ago, but the thought of bumping into Andrew in the middle of a witch hunt left him ice-cold. Though he was confident Andrew would eventually see the truth and evaluate that his promise to Kevin was more urgent than getting him out of Evermore, Nathaniel wasn’t looking forward to a one-sided argument that would undoubtedly ensue. Ridiculously, he considered staying on the roof until the banquet was over and the Ravens had to head back to Charlottesville. It would be a great solver for his problems, except that he’d told Riko he’d be back soon. Knowing Riko, he was already annoyed at being left alone all this time—even if Jeremy Knox was doing his best to steal his attention. Nathaniel gathered himself again then got up from the edge of the building. Behind him, SoCal extended like a giant, so much taller than the small staff building where he was. He admired the view only until his eyes caught on the glass panels at the side of the stadium and his reflection stared back at him. Nathaniel quickly averted his gaze and made way for the door from which he’d come, his phone still warm in his hand. 

He was already halfway down the second flight of stairs when the sound of a door opening and steps approaching echoed around the staircase. For a second, panic settled over him for being caught wandering around SoCal by himself, but he realized no one—not even Riko—would punish him severely for taking a moment to breathe. He relaxed against the railings then resumed walking down the steps. It was only when the other person was inevitably close that he caught sight of blonde hair and realized it was Andrew who was coming his way. 

Nathaniel stopped. He knew that by staying still Andrew would find him easily, but going down meant actively meeting him. Foolishly, Nathaniel thought to curl into himself and hope Andrew wouldn’t notice him. That wasn’t a logical option, so he took the next best route: to turn around and run back up the stairs to the roof. Andrew had to have heard his hurried steps as he ran, but Nathaniel didn’t find it in himself to mind. His heart was beating hard inside his chest and he stopped with his back to the door, as if by pretending that he didn’t know Andrew was coming, Andrew truly wouldn’t show up. 

As it was, the action proved itself useless when Andrew opened the metallic door and scoffed when he took in Nathaniel’s position—staring off at the horizon and feigning unaffected. Nathaniel didn’t move until the sound of the door slamming sent him jumping in front of Andrew. He cursed himself for startling and turned to look at the goalkeeper. Despite what he’d been expecting, there were no signs of amusement in Andrew’s golden eyes. 

Andrew could have said a number of things just then, but instead he looked around and acknowledged their location. On the back of his mind, Nathaniel remembered what Andrew had been liked that day the two of them had flown from South Carolina to Virginia all those months ago. He couldn’t tell whether Andrew’s fear was restricted to plane rides or extended to heights altogether, and judging by the way Andrew held himself right now, bringing out uncertainty was exactly his objective. Andrew pressed his lips together, took out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, and moved to sit where Nathaniel had previously been, at the edge of the building. That was when his impeccable façade finally slipped; he looked down at the small street under them and let out a shaky breath. Nathaniel considered making a comment on it, but thought better and sat down beside him. 

Weeks ago he would have forced himself to sit at an arms-length distance, but by now he’d fully accepted that he felt safer with Andrew than he did when he was alone. Nathaniel’s thoughts often walked the edge of disturbing when he was by himself and more than once in the last few days since he’d sent himself straight into a panic attack. With Andrew, however, he had the certainty of a distraction and an odd set of eyes on him. Andrew didn’t look at him like he might break or like he was something to be fucked; his eyes were golden and straighter than Nathaniel’s, but they were mirrors. What Nathaniel was going through, Andrew had experienced a few years ago: utter desperation. The knowledge that someone understood and didn’t judge him made something stir in his stomach, but mostly it made him feel protected. He wondered if Andrew knew that was who he’d become to him, and what he’d do if he hadn’t figured it out already. 

By the time he’d arranged himself on the edge, there was a lit cigarette waiting for him in Andrew’s hand. Andrew’s eyes were sit on the city in front of him, his expression stoic, but he didn’t lower his hand or seem impatient in the time it took Nathaniel to sit comfortably and take the cigarette from him. He took a long drag of his own and held the smoke in for a long while. When he exhaled, head turning so he could look at Nathaniel, his eyes were almost wild and his cheeks were flushed. Nathaniel wanted to know at once what had gotten that barrenness into his eyes, but he knew by asking Andrew would only shut down. He took a drag from his cigarette and waited for Andrew to make the first move. 

When the silence between them extended a moment too long and turned awkward, he finally said, “How did you know I was here?” 

“Nicky saw you checking doors and this one was the closest to your table that wasn’t locked.” 

“I’m flattered to know you put your entire team out looking for me,” Nathaniel said. “I thought they’d hate me at this point.” 

“No, that’s just me,” Andrew said in a bored tone. “Unlike me, they’re actually curious about you after seeing what Jean was like after he got to Palmetto. Maybe it’ll please you to know Nicky almost threw up when he heard Jean didn’t get the worst of it.” 

Nathaniel looked at Andrew blankly for a moment, but only until his memory kicked in. Nicholas “Nicky” Hemmick was one of the backliners for the Foxes and a decent enough cousin to the Minyard twins. Two years ago, after Aaron and Andrew’s mother had died, he’d had a future in Germany and was setting up a life for himself alongside his boyfriend, but he’d dropped it all to become an adult figure in his cousins’ lives when it became imminent that they needed him. Nathaniel didn’t know what it felt like to have family like that, but he was a little bitter at the dismissive way Andrew talked about Nicky. 

He could chastise Andrew for it, but his attention had focused somewhere entirely with Andrew’s words. He’d already known Jean had gone to South Carolina to hide out for the while it took him to heal, but he hadn’t thought Renee would take him to where the Foxes lived in Palmetto. Jean had all but ripped his contract with the Ravens the day he’d left, but still it felt significant for him to get out of Edgar Allan and go straight to PSU the same way Kevin had done. Nathaniel tried his best to repress the spark of anger that ignited inside him; it was possible that Jean didn’t have a choice in where to go now that he’d gotten away from the one thing he’d known in America. It seemed unlikely that the Foxes would force him into playing for them, but Nathaniel knew how Jean’s mind worked. He hated Kevin for leaving, but Kevin had been the one player who’d managed to cut ties with the Ravens for good. If getting free meant forming bonds with the Foxes, more specifically Andrew Minyard, Nathaniel doubted Jean would refrain himself from doing just that. 

The words left his lips before he could fully process them. He said, “Did you and Jean cut a deal?” 

Andrew had been pulling his cigarette up to his mouth to take a drag, but his hand froze mid-air at hearing that. He rested his hand back over his thigh and turned a little so he was completely facing Nathaniel. His expression remained blank, but there was a light squint to his eyes that made him look curious. “Is that how you think this works? Someone needs help and I offer my undying attention?” He said. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that story of Saint-Andrew-who-aids-the-helpless-and-mistreated was merely a ploy I used to make my point; I don’t actually care about that many of you. When I said I was washing my hands from Jean’s problems, I meant it.” 

“So that’s it, then?” Nathaniel scoffed. “You go into Evermore, cause all that trouble for me with the Master and my father, then refuse to help me the one way you can, which is by helping out my best friend. Do you enjoy making my life more difficult than it already is?” 

“Boo-hoo, poor Nathaniel. Maybe next time I come to take you away you’ll just come and spare yourself another beating from dear old dad,” Andrew said, then raised his free hand to trace Nathaniel’s tattoo on his left cheek. “They only own you for as long as you let them.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t have a literal contract hanging over your head with Cassandra Spear,” Nathaniel spat. He almost continued, but he stopped himself when he saw all the features in Andrew’s face go stiff. He knew that he wasn’t being fair. He’d read the files and reports that came after Andrew had left the Spears household, and even if he hadn’t, judging Andrew for sacrificing himself and his dignity for a chance of a better life would be nothing short of hypocrisy. Nathaniel stared the half-burned cigarette on his hand and threw it down on the street bitterly. He said, “I’m just—” 

Nathaniel threaded his fingers into his hair and yanked in frustration. He couldn’t find the words to convey what he really was, and he had the suspicion that it was because he didn’t know how he really felt. He’d been with the Moriyamas since he was ten years old, but just this year alone had put things into perspective. Being with Riko wasn’t the only reason he felt so shitty with himself, though that did help when he wanted to put himself down; after Kevin’s departure—and now Jean’s—it felt like he was in an inevitable process of falling apart. He refused to feel sorry for himself, but he didn’t know how to find an alternative to it when he felt he had his hands tied behind his back. 

His eyes fell from Andrew’s face to his thighs. Feeling so defeated after so long trying to fight back was discouraging. “I’m just tired of being Nathaniel.” 

Andrew looked at him again with those mirror-eyes and Nathaniel was happy to not be looking directly into them. Most of the time he didn’t like knowing there was someone out there who could understand what he was going through, but who wasn’t a victim anymore. It was both infuriating and a relieving and Nathaniel didn’t know how to deal with it. He’d lived his entire life beside Jean and Kevin, but they’d been too damaged to maintain healthy communication with each other. Andrew was offering just that; to be someone who’d listen and not judge. Nathaniel didn’t know how to start talking. 

Andrew threw his own cigarette down onto the street and shifted so he was straddling the edge of the roof. He drawled, “Who are you if you’re not Nathaniel?” 

He’d meant it as a callout comment, but Nathaniel recoiled at hearing the words. A long time ago he’d asked his mother the same question. He didn’t want to be the Butcher’s son or the Exy player that would grow always a step behind Riko Moriyama; he wanted to be his own person. The inevitability of what his future held for him had been an obstacle then and it was an obstacle now, but back then he’d had Mary to curl herself around him in bed and make up lies that a ten-year-old would believe in. Nathaniel suddenly couldn’t bear the reek of cigarette in the air and the knowledge that he didn’t have that now. 

He turned so he was sitting with his legs on either side of the edge, the same way Andrew was sitting, and finally looked up into the goalkeeper’s eyes. “Abram,” he said. When Andrew said nothing, Nathaniel shrugged and elaborated. “When I was younger and didn’t want to be my father’s son, that’s what my mom used to call me. Abram’s my middle name; it’s the one thing I have that doesn’t have any connection with him. I’m tired of being Nathaniel. Maybe I just want to be Abram again.” 

Andrew looked at him for a long time. “Changing your name doesn’t mean you can run from your past.” 

“No, but it’s a way to detach myself from my father,” Nathaniel said. “I have—everything is his. My eyes, my hair, my name. Abram comes from my mom’s side of the family. They’re not good people either, but anything is better than my father.” 

Andrew hummed, then shifted to take out his pack again. He didn’t offer Nathaniel a cigarette this time, but maybe that was because he saw the way Nathaniel almost flinched away from it. He put the cigarette to his lips then looked around them again. The sun was bright in the sky and the players had started singing cheerfully downstairs, but for once the happy atmosphere around the Trojans’ stadium had left Nathaniel. He thought maybe it was the roof, or just Andrew’s presence next to him. Whatever it was, he was happy for not being forced into stillness by the Ravens or joyfulness by the entire rest of the league’s players. 

They stayed in silence while Andrew finished smoking, but Nathaniel didn’t move when Andrew stubbed the cigarette on the concrete between them. He was happy for a distraction from the Ravens’ drama for once and didn’t want to leave the bubble that kept his thoughts from wandering. Nathaniel thought of a good way to say it to Andrew, but the understanding in Andrew’s eyes hadn’t disappeared just yet and he wondered if they’d ever need much verbal explaining around each other. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Why did you block me?” Andrew said. 

Nathaniel shrugged. “I told you already. You wouldn’t help with Jean,” he said, but Andrew continued staring at him in silence until he finally relented. Nathaniel leaned forward, his body heavy, and said, “I don’t know. It’s just me and Riko out there now. There’s nothing you can do about it.” 

The movement was so abrupt Nathaniel didn’t know what was happening until his face was inches away from Andrew’s and Andrew’s hand was grabbing tightly onto his collar. He could feel the goalkeeper’s breath on his face and had to close his eyes at the hint of smoke that fell out of his lips. Nathaniel didn't realize he was breathing harshly until he let out a shuddering breath when Andrew’s hand went from his collar to under his jaw, lingering, to the back of his neck like he’d done the day Jean left Castle Evermore. Almost absently, Nathaniel let his face fall forward until his forehead was almost touching Andrew’s. 

“I said I didn’t need your protection, Abram, and I meant it,” Andrew said. 

Nathaniel sighed. “Someone needs to protect you sometime, Andrew,” he said. He interpreted the silence that followed as consent to go on and murmured, “You go out protecting me and Kevin and your brother and you don’t care what might happen to you while you do it. I’m not gonna let them get their hands on you again.” 

“I hate you,” Andrew said, but his voice lacked the usual emptiness Nathaniel had grown used to hearing. He squeezed Nathaniel’s neck tighter for a moment before letting go completely and pulling away. “Go back inside before your boyfriend comes looking for you.” 

Nathaniel opened his mouth to argue, changed his mind after a moment, and turned away with his head down. He dreaded the thought of going back to the banquet, but Andrew was right; Riko would start looking for him shortly and would not be happy when he couldn’t find him. He took the stairs down to the first floor and opened the metallic door slowly. Out in the court, the Trojans had taken to sitting around the Foxes’ table and were causing a great amount of noise from the corner they were in. Nathaniel could see a few players from other teams also sitting close to them, but he didn’t let his eyes linger. He didn’t want to look at Kevin and Renee after what had happened with Jean. His eyes still stuck on the ground beneath him, he adjusted the dark red tie around his collar and went back to his table with the Ravens. 

Riko's wasn't there when he sat down, but when he located Jeremy Knox in the stadium, he saw that he was done distracting anyone. Normally Nathaniel wouldn't think much of seeing Riko missing in one of these banquets, but he could see Tetsuji sat at the coaches’ table and looking strangely unassuming. If it had been any other time Nathaniel would have thought possible Riko was having his way with one of the Ravens in one of the more private rooms, but the investigation on the Nest was serious enough that Riko had been respecting his uncle’s orders to keep his hands off the players. Besides, Nathaniel couldn't see any other breaches in the Ravens’ line; everyone else was accounted for. Fear was ice in his stomach as he shifted to look at the Foxes’ table, but there were too many players around it for him to check Kevin's seat. He bit his lip and got up despite Ellie's warning glance for him to stay put. 

He forced a half-amiable expression on his face as he approached the crowded table, but maneuvered his way closer to the end of the table he'd seen Kevin on. Nathaniel bluntly ignored most the players, for once thankful that the Ravens were intimidating enough for him to not be bothered, and finally caught sight of dark hair and a large build beside an empty chair. Kevin stared at him like he'd never seen Nathaniel before glancing to his side like he'd forgotten Andrew wasn't there to protect him. He mouthed a question at Nathaniel, but the striker was already turning around to go find Riko. Even if he hadn't gotten his hands on Kevin, Nathaniel doubted he was up to anything good. 

He'd almost made it back to his table, adamant in asking Ellie where Riko was, when the door he'd taken to the rooftop opened with a loud noise. Nathaniel turned just in time to see Riko coming out of it looking enraged then marching towards the men's bathroom down the hall. He prepared himself for the worst, and his suspicions turned true when Andrew showed up at the doorstep with the same empty expression he'd had when Nathaniel had picked him up at Easthaven all those months ago. Andrew turned a defiant look his way then wiped at his bottom lip, deliberately displaying his bruised knuckles as he did so. Nathaniel paled. Those hadn't been there a few minutes ago. 

Nathaniel took a desperate step closer, but Andrew's focus had already left him. He was looking at the Foxes' table in the corner of the door, looking a mix of disgusted and bored at the sight of all those players looming around his teammates. His shoulders only relaxed when he twisted enough to see Kevin, but even then, Andrew's apathy mask was fraying just enough that all his emotions were showing to those who knew how to read him. Nathaniel knew this must be a bad sign, but with Riko already angry and probably bleeding in the bathroom, going to Andrew would only make things worse. He froze mid-step and watched as Andrew pulled his sleeves down to cover his knuckles. Finally, Andrew's golden eyes refocused on Nathaniel's blue ones and they didn't break eye contact the entire time Andrew walked closer to him.  

Andrew must have realized interacting with each other in front of the Ravens would eventually lead to drama, because he didn't slow down on his way to his table. He touched the small of Nathaniel's back lightly enough that it sent goose bumps down his spine, but otherwise looked unaffected and slightly more composed. Nathaniel didn't dare turn around to stare, both because of the shock from being touched in an almost tender way and from the fear that one of the Ravens might read too hard into it. He only moved when he was sure Andrew was already far away from him. 

Riko still wasn't back by the time he was managed to walk again, so Nathaniel sighed and made his way to the men's bathroom to prevent any collateral damage from whatever had happened on the roof. There were a couple of players talking near the entrance, but the bathroom was  completely empty apart from a locked stool at the end of the room. Nathaniel sighed and knocked on the wooden door, the entire time hoping Riko would send him away and deal with his problems himself. 

"Occupied," Riko snarled, his voice venomous. 

"It's me." 

There was a moment of hesitation inside the stool, in which Nathaniel heard Riko schooling his breathing back to normal, and then the door opened slowly. Riko marched out with one hand tangled in his hair and his lip busted and still bleeding. For a moment Nathaniel wondered if he'd hid in the bathroom in fear of Tetsuji or in shame, but then he saw the phone in Riko's other hand and immediately knew nothing good would come out of it. Normally he'd get away with asking what he was planning on doing, but Nathaniel doubted Riko would appreciate his hidden concern for Andrew at a time like this. He opened his mouth to make a comment on Riko's lip, closed it, and walked to the bathroom door. 

Once the door was locked, he perched himself on the black-stoned sink near the paper towels and took out a handful of them. He motioned for Riko to come closer, all the while looking down at the ground, and grit his teeth when Riko nudged his legs. Nathaniel opened them so Riko could situate himself between them and wondered what Andrew would have to say about him now. His eyes were clinical and his hands were professional as he cleaned the wound in Riko's lip, but there wasn't anything he could do to hide or protect the cuts. Riko didn't seem to mind. His kiss was sharp and metallic and made Nathaniel want to puke afterwards. 

Thankfully now he had the excuse of being in a public Trojan bathroom to break them apart, and Riko only looked mildly annoyed when he finally stepped away from Nathaniel so the two of them could rearrange themselves. They left the bathroom hand in hand, ignoring the players standing close to the doorway who gave them half-smirks and a particularly bold girl who whistled as they passed. Nathaniel hid his face in his shoulder as they walked back to the Ravens' table. 

Nathaniel thought maybe news had leaked about the Ravens' upcoming investigation and possible lawsuit, because not one person except for the catering staff dared to get close to their table. He didn't mind the silence that extended across their corner of the court, and appreciated the Jackals' sense that they were not to strike up conversations. The Ravens remained sat at all times, their chins propped on their hands as it usually was during banquets, and watched with arrogant expressions as the other players laughed loudly and went on annoying song lyrics together.  

Their involvement in games and chatter meant that they barely thought about Exy, so thankfully no scrimmages were proposed this time around. Nathaniel was mostly healed, but he didn't want to risk playing against Riko gain and angering him. He stayed on his seat throughout the evening, playing games on his phone from time to time and talking to Ellie about the most trivial subjects, both so Riko would think they weren't so caught up in the past events and so Ellie could take her mind off of Jean's departure. Nathaniel purposefully ignored the fingers of his right hand entwined with Riko's the entire time they were forced to sit at that table. 

At six-thirty the Trojans' coach and the president of the ERC made unnecessary speeches that almost made Nathaniel fall asleep with his head on his dinner plate, and then the players were told to clear the court of tables so they could spend the rest of their night dancing and mingling. The Ravens dragged their table as one, promptly ignoring the Jackals' half-hearted offer at helping, then stood to the side as players from other teams made way to the center of the court with their dates and began dancing. 

There was still a small part of Nathaniel which hoped that the Ravens weren't planning on going against the Foxes now that Renee and Andrew had made their first and nearly-fatal move with the presidency of Edgar Allan, but the players were more resentful than they were scared. He watched as a group of players took the first move towards the Foxes and sighed when he saw Ellie was being half-dragged alongside them. He didn't want to leave her alone when they went up against Andrew and his jabbing words, so he enlaced his arm with hers and went to stand at her side. 

Only some of the Ravens were moving, so even in the usual V formation there weren’t enough people to trap the small group of Foxes between them. Nathaniel pulled on Ellie’s arm until their teammates got the hint and moved on, leaving them as far away as possible from the Foxes. He took advantage of the Ravens’ first insults to break formation and put himself in front of a shaking Ellie, though he wasn’t subtle enough to keep some of the Foxes, standing right in front of him, from noticing. He raised an eyebrow when picture-perfect Allison Reynolds stared straight at him, daring her to comment on it. She didn’t seem like she thought herself above such low blows, but Nathaniel had seen Renee leave her side the moment she spotted the Ravens—surely to go find Andrew—and Allison knew he knew. She crossed her arms and turned her focus back on Berger, who was currently going on a rant about giving the Foxes a good view of what a real defense line looked like.

Danielle Wilds shoved her ten-foot tall boyfriend aside and asked, with the same condescending smile on her face that she was ever-sporting, “Why don’t you keep crawling up Riko’s ass, then, if you like him so much? The higher you go, the harder you’ll fall when you get the call from Louis Andritch saying that they’re shutting your fabric of psychos/Nest down. I bet you and your one-track mind won’t even know what’s going on when you don’t have your aggressive foreplay in court anymore.”

Berger’s head was bright red. He said, “I bet you know a lot about foreplay, don’t you, Hennessey?”

It was a low blow. Danielle didn’t make a point of keeping her past hidden, but there weren’t a lot of people who knew about what she’d had to do to support herself through high school. The Ravens knew about it because they knew about everyone’s secrets; the Master had a private investigator working on every player that joined the league and he made a point of letting his players know of their stories to the fullest extent. Nathaniel remembered getting a dossier on Wilds the day it was announced she’d become captain of the Foxes. Her profile fit with what was expected of her team: rough childhood, irresponsible parents, a lot more alcohol and sex than a teenager should be around.

Nathaniel thought for a moment Danielle would cower at the mention of her night job, especially once Berger gave her a filthy once-over, but he should have known better after seeing her unbreakable façade at the banquets and press conferences. She turned slightly towards Matthew Boyd and whispered something that he obviously didn’t like, but respected. He nodded once then backed away until he was standing with his shoulder next to Allison’s body. Danielle waited until he was far enough away then turned back to Berger, let out an assessing hum, and kneed him right between the legs. Berger winced loudly and went to his knees. The other Ravens only took a half-second to look at him in sympathy before readjusting their formation. Nathaniel did so with a grimace, as it put him closer to the Foxes and to where Andrew was coming.

Danielle opened her mouth to say something else, probably as sharp as the look Berger was giving her, but Andrew manhandled her easily until she was flush against her boyfriend. It earned him a glare, but it was obvious that Andrew was the one with a real motive to fight against the Ravens. Andrew looked as unconcerned as ever in front of his teammates and stopped almost too far away from any of them. He was only inches apart from where Nathaniel was still shielding Ellie’s body.

Andrew was looking past him. He said, “Seems to me you have more than just Riko keeping you at Evermore. Eleanor Hatfield? That’s low, even for you. Whatever will he do to you once he finds out.”

Nathaniel didn’t think Andrew had misinterpreted the situation so much as just wanted to anger him into doing something stupid enough that would warrant him a reason to leave the building without the rest of his team. He didn’t take the bait. He found Ellie’s hand behind him and pressed down hard to stop her from taking it for him.

“You aren’t even worth the ground you—” She stopped only when Nathaniel had pressed hard enough that she fell over his body. He was prepared for it and didn’t falter in front of Andrew. Ellie cursed, but remained quiet while she found her balance again.

Andrew watched as if nothing had happened at all. His nonchalance did more to the Ravens than if he had been speaking throughout the entirety of it. The two players closer to him dared to take a few steps forward, but he turned around to face them and they stopped dead in their tracks. Andrew kept staring at them, but when he spoke, it was clear he was speaking to Nathaniel. He said, “Last chance.”

“You keep offering me those,” Nathaniel said.

“I know. It’s infuriating.” Andrew moved back to look at him. “You really are more trouble than you’re worth. I should have learned by now, but your stupidity brings me around every time. Perhaps it’s the self-destructive streak in me? Maybe we should go another round on that.”

Behind him, Ellie started and let out a choked sound, but Nathaniel didn’t pay heed to it. He was trying to make sense of Andrew’s words, but there were too many things happening right now for him to fully commit himself to it. He felt the answer was just out of his reach, but not even looking into Andrew’s eyes helped. Andrew had completely shut himself off.  It was as irritating as it was impressive. Nathaniel had a gift for reading body language and he’d been able to see under Andrew’s mask before. The problem was that now Andrew’s meds weren’t part of the equation and the mask had changed. Nathaniel stared at him like he was going to change his mind and explain, but Andrew only stared back.

His confusion must have shown on his face, because Andrew’s unimpressed façade finally broke and he rolled his eyes. He took a few steps to where Berger was still at the floor and murmured something unpleasant.  Berger tried to get up, but Andrew’s hand was on the back of his neck before he’d fully pushed himself off the ground and Andrew was leaned over his body, whispering something in his ear. Nathaniel could see where Andrew had a knife pointed at his abdomen.

Berger stayed down the next time Andrew got up, and he shook his head when one of the Ravens stepped close to check he hadn’t actually got stabbed. Andrew was unconcerned. He looked at Nathaniel once again, opened his mouth to say something, and changed his mind. He sheathed his knife under his armband and waited for Nathaniel to say the next word.

There were a number of crude things that could be said at that moment, but Nathaniel made the mistake to look around Andrew to the Foxes’ table and noticed Kevin wasn’t sitting anymore. He looked around frantically, but he already knew it was useless. He caught a lungful so he could alert Andrew his best striker was missing, but Andrew had already noticed. His eyes were focused towards the corner the Ravens were in. When Nathaniel turned, he wasn’t surprised Riko wasn’t anywhere in sight, either.

Andrew was by his Coach’s side in record time, considering his short legs and the fact that he wasn’t running, and it soon became obvious neither of them were pleased with the conversation. Coach Wymack looked around the court uselessly then gestured in frustration to Andrew. Andrew wasn’t there anymore. He was marching towards the men’s bathroom, where Nathaniel had already started walking to, in a first glimmer of hope that Kevin had simply gone there and would be back soon.

The hunch was half right. As they converged on the door and shared a quick look, Kevin stumbled out of the bathroom looking pale and nauseous but otherwise unharmed. It would have been fine if Riko wasn’t right on his trail. When he saw them, he managed a savage grin and threw his arm around Nathaniel’s shoulders. Nathaniel would have flinched either way, but this side-hug felt different from the others; Riko’s touch on him was proprietary and tight and told Nathaniel he wasn’t going anywhere so soon. Nathaniel felt his stomach drop. He looked at Andrew and then at Kevin, who were speaking at a low volume, and expected them to enlighten him in the situation. They didn’t. Without bothering with another glance his way, Andrew put a hand on Kevin’s back and shoved him towards the exit, his lips in a thin, unpleased line.

Riko only looked at him once they were out of the stadium, and his grin didn’t lessen at all. Fear was a physical thing in Nathaniel’s stomach, but he let himself be led to the Ravens’ table and he sat beside Riko to endure to rest of the event. Riko’s arm didn’t leave his shoulders once and as the night progressed his words got more and more concerning. Nathaniel couldn’t possible figure out what had happened with Kevin in the bathroom, but it had certainly shown light on some issues between them and Nathaniel, because Riko’s anger was finally directed at Nathaniel.

When the majority of the players had left their tables and were too occupied with mingling to check on the Ravens, Riko leaned close to Nathaniel’s ear. “You’re right to be scared, sweetheart. I’m going to break all the bones I can tonight,” he whispered. His breath sent shivers down Nathaniel’s spine. “My uncle said not to break you so hard you can’t play, but I bet he’ll forgive me after he’s heard you were the one who told Kevin where Andrew was. Come.”

Nathaniel was frozen on his seat and wasn’t about to move anytime soon. He tried his best to explain that, but Riko wasn’t talking to him. Behind him, someone pulled on his chair until it moved, then slung an arm around his torso. When Nathaniel was forced up into a standing position, his body fell forward, suddenly limp in its fear. It didn’t help him at all; Riko gripped him tighter on the shoulders until they were leaning against each other and Nathaniel looked like nothing more than someone who’d had too much to drink. He fell into a place that kept him at the edge of consciousness, almost, oscillating between his own thoughts and what was happening.

For a moment he wondered if causing a scene was worth it, but by the time he formed coherent thoughts that went beyond his imminent death they were no longer at the court. In front of him, a red and gold plate said “BOILER ROOM – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY”. The adrenaline finally hit him and he managed to stand up on his own. Nathaniel moved back so he could see who was the other player keeping him incapacitated, and he recoiled when he saw it was Ellie. Her eyes weren’t meeting his, but it was obvious she didn’t know the gravity of the situation. Normally Jean was the one to manhandle him to where Riko wanted him, but she’d seen it happen too many times before. In her head, he had made a slip and was on his way for one of Riko’s usual punishments. She probably expected them to be making their way back to the Ravens’ bus in no time.

Nathaniel refused to acknowledge the situation. He catalogued every door they passed down the hallway to the boiler room and wondered if he could make his way back to the court if he had the chance. He hadn’t seen the path they’d taken at first, but he wasn’t so out of it for it to be too far. Gradually, he let his body go still and waited for either Ellie or Riko to slip. Usually Nathaniel wasn’t one for running away from beatings, mostly because he had nowhere to run away to, but he didn’t know how this one in particular would end up. When he thought about it, it seemed unlikely Riko would actually kill him, but he wasn’t looking forward to seeing the full extent of his anger.

Riko must have realized what he was thinking, because his moved his arms around Nathaniel’s shoulders so that he absolutely couldn’t move. A hiss came out of his lips where it usually would have been a pleased smile. Ironically, Nathaniel could hear his words to Andrew from a few months ago. _In some fucked up way, Riko loves me_. It was still true, but Riko’s love wasn’t unconditional. Nathaniel was shaking in fear while Riko was shaking in anger. There was no pleasure to come out of this, for either side. Somehow that made things worse.

They reached the end of the hall and a plate signaled they had finally reached the boiler room. Riko made a motion for Ellie to open the door and, after she did, sent her away. She hesitated for only a second before turning around and going back to the court. Riko didn’t wait for her to disappear. With the door held open, Nathaniel could see a staircase that went down to where the machinery started, and he knew what was coming even before Riko moved. He tried to brace himself, but there was nothing that could be done with his arms held close to his body. Riko shifted so Nathaniel was in front of him and, with a single motion, let go.

Nathaniel had seen this happen to Jean before, and that was the only thing going through his head the entire time he fell: Jean, looking wide-eyed at the top of the stairs, curling on himself so he didn’t split his head open on the concrete at the bottom; Jean, counting how many ribs were broken this time around; Jean, crying so hard he couldn’t stop trembling for hours after, the first time he’d been pushed down the stairs at Evermore. Nathaniel wondered if they looked the same as they fell.

The staircase to the ground floor of the boiler room wasn’t necessarily big, but it was enough that he managed to put his arms in front of his chest before the end of it. It should have helped, but his palms hit metal and the heads of old nails that cut him up every time. With each thump at the end of a step, his body flung to the other side and so he went until he was on the ground, hitting his head on one side of the stairs and his knees on the other. On the back of his mind, he wondered how long it would be until he was able to play again—he could feel the bones cracking at each step he fell. At the top, Riko watched with his jaw clenched and his hands folded into another in an attempt to hide their trembling.

The fall had to have broken quite a few bones, but Riko wasn’t anywhere near done. He came down the steps forcefully and stepped on Nathaniel’s body when he reached the last step and the striker still hadn’t moved. When his foot made contact with the torso, there was a distinctive popping sound and then unbearable pain on the same rib that had been a problem for months, now. There was no muffling the scream that came with it.

Riko’s lip curled in disgust and he spat for Nathaniel to move, but it was impossible. Half on Nathaniel’s body was still on the stairs, stuck between the last two steps in an unpleasant way that meant his left foot was, in the least, dislocated, and the other was splayed out on the concrete, the palms of his hands under him to cushion the fall. Nathaniel couldn’t see himself, but it was obvious they were both thinking of the same thing. Not long ago, Riko had had him on the same position, squirming and moaning under him. Nathaniel refused to acknowledge the humiliation, preferring instead to think of ways to talk Riko out of this.

He’d been using his silver tongue to lessen Riko’s rage for months now, channeling it into sexual frustration, but Riko hadn’t had a real reason to feel anger besides jealousy until now. More than once, Nathaniel had had to calm Riko down from one of his tantrums about Kevin’s treason. Riko had gone on endless times about how much he hated people who deserted and didn’t look back, but that was only because there had never been a real traitor amongst the Ravens. He hadn’t ever really thought any of his trained monkeys would go against him in the things that mattered, and it didn’t help that Nathaniel had been the one to do so. He didn’t know how to calm Riko down. He hadn’t actually thought Riko would ever find out.

Slowly, Nathaniel crawled out of the stairs. Pulling his foot from where it had fallen between the last two steps was agonizing and he couldn’t have muffled his whimpers for anything in the world. Riko was standing close to where he stopped, hands over his face as he tried to find some semblance of control. Nathaniel couldn’t bear to look at him, but he didn’t have the courage to look down at his left foot and find out how bad the injury had been. He looked down on the floor beneath him and hoped this wouldn’t go on for much longer.

The sound of metal clinking caught his attention and Nathaniel instinctively looked up to check, but he refused to believe what he was seeing. Riko had spoken multiple times over the years about how much he hated smoking, going as far as beating Nathaniel over his growing addiction, and yet now he held a cigarette pack in one hand and a lighter in the other. Absently, Nathaniel registered a growing itch on his throat at the sight of it, but he couldn’t pay mind to it with the throbbing of his ears.

A few weeks ago Andrew had told him to stop being the rabbit, but it was ingrained in him to crawl away from danger rather than fight his way through it. He said, the volume of his voice low enough that he managed to keep it steady, “Please don’t do this to me.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of yourself?” Riko said. His features had taken the same expression the Butcher had whenever he was about to slaughter his prey.

It was the sort of killing calm that Nathaniel had feared his entire life. Seeing it on Riko’s face was enough to end whatever sparkle of self-control he still had, and he groveled at Riko’s feet, fully understanding what that Riko didn’t plan on keeping him on the Ravens’ line anymore. The thought brought him back to the day Riko had broken Kevin’s hand. The terror he was feeling rivaled the terror he’d felt that day. Riko had told him he loved him, but Nathaniel wondered how much effect that would have on him when he was this enraged.

“The worst thing is that once I’m done and you’re bleeding on the floor alone, you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself. Now,” Riko continued. “I want you to break your right thumb.”

It was not the first time Riko had asked something like this from him. Over the years, Riko had learned he liked the control, rather than the beating, and that having the power to make his players break themselves out of fear was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Nathaniel had done as he said every time it was asked from him, but then he had a lot more to lose than he had now. He had a growing feeling that, if he indulged him, Riko actually wouldn’t be able to stop.

Nathaniel spat on Riko’s shoes.

Riko, who had been busy taking a cigarette, froze immediately. He looked down at his feet, then at Nathaniel in front of him, like he couldn’t believe it. His blank façade gave away minutely, but it was back on by the time he’d finished crouching down. Fingers gripped Nathaniel’s hair so hard that his eyes immediately filled with tears, and then his face was being rubbed over the shoes and the spit. He choked, but Riko didn’t let him go until he was squirming with the need for air. When he did, there wasn’t enough time to calm down before he felt the first contact of knuckles against his stomach. If there hadn’t been enough damage in them from the fall, there was now; Riko hadn’t brought his brass knuckles with him, but he’d wrapped his hand around the metal lighter and used it to heighten the damage. Nathaniel took the biggest gulp of air possible before the other punches came.

The non-stopping punches reminded him of the night he faltered in the middle of court against the Foxes, but Riko’s anger and the lighter in his hand made every punch worse than the other. When Riko tired of his stomach, he moved to his face, until the reflex pain put his entire body on fire. Riko only stopped once Nathaniel started begging, his already hurt bones fraying with every hit. Riko hummed once, putting a hand over his left cheek and caressing it with his thumb.

“You don’t deserve to be wearing this,” he said, sounding resigned, then sat back on his feet. Nathaniel couldn’t see much because of the blood gushing from his brow, but he heard clearly the sound of metal clinking again. In front of him, Riko took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with the bloodied lighter.

Nathaniel recoiled at the sight of it. “Please stop,” he said. His voice was hoarse from the blows against his neck. Riko mimicked him in a high-pitched tone, let out a cruel laugh, and pressed the cigarette to his cheekbone.

Logically, Nathaniel knew that trying to get away would only make the burning and the injuries worse, but it was impossible to remain still. Pain soared through his cheek where the ink was melting, but soon it was his entire body that was set aflame. Riko was laughing on top of him, but Nathaniel couldn’t hear it over his own screams. There should have been relief when, for a moment, Riko took away his hand to assess the damage, but seconds turned into nothing with the agony eating its way through the entirety of it. Too soon the cigarette was back, again and again and again, until the smell of burned skin was the only other thing he could process. Nathaniel flinched, sickness presenting itself in his stomach, but Riko only put a hand over his mouth when he threatened to vomit and retrieved the pack from where it’d fallen on the floor.

“Stop screaming,” Riko half-whined, half-dragged. “I’ll make this three times worse for you if someone hears you.”

The thought of it sent a shock through his body, but Nathaniel didn’t have what it took to shut up. He sobbed against Riko’s hand, pathetically. He knew the picture he must make at the moment, but there was no fight left in him to try to stop it all from happening. Every gulp of air was frantic and sent piercing pain through his chest, and his sobs kept him from inhaling enough oxygen to steady his breaths. Nathaniel was frustratingly pliant under Riko’s ministrations and it angered him just enough that the crying worsened by the minute. He tried to close his teeth around Riko’s fingers, but the pressure against him was too much and all his breaths were coming in front his mouth. Riko rewarded him with a slap against his burns.

The lighter burned in front of his eyes again, and Nathaniel recoiled. Riko was ready for it; this time the cigarette was against the other cheek, and he said something about a matching set that didn’t fully register in Nathaniel’s mind.

“I’m going to make this as terrible as I possibly can,” Riko said. “I’ll burn you for every ‘I love you’ that you said to me. I’ll punch you for every kiss you gave; every moan you let out under me.”

“Please,” Nathaniel choked out. His voice was muffled against Riko’s fingers.

Time was a physical thing as Riko alternated between burns and punches; Nathaniel felt like he could sense the seconds around him, passing lazily, mocking him. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening—to think of Jean, of Ellie, of Andrew—but he felt as if by closing his eyes he was giving up completely and waiting for the darkness to approach him one final time. He kept his eyes trained on Riko, telling himself that if he anticipated what came next, it would hurt less. Eventually, he gave up on lying to himself and started counting in seconds, in every language he knew until he couldn’t name the numbers anymore. His tears were acidic against his burning cheekbones.

He hit rock bottom sooner than he expected to, squirming and mumbling nonsense against Riko’s fingers on his mouth. The battle against unconsciousness was an all-out war in his mind, taking more of his energy than it should. Riko noticed it too, because he stopped punching Nathaniel for a while to shake him forcefully and keep him awake. When Nathaniel’s eyes remained open—out of sheer will and agonizing pain—he went back to his texture or burns and bruises, the killing calm transforming into what really was underneath Riko’s skin: pure hatred.

Over many years of extensive training, Nathaniel had learned that letting the anger take control was key for making mistakes, but he had never seen any of his tutors or his father in anything less than a calm façade that kept them at the top of the game. Riko took out the hand that was controlling Nathaniel’s sobs from his mouth and used it to hurt him harder, in a sequence of lefts and rights that sent the Nathaniel into a frenzy of terror, fury and pain until, finally, the weight on his eyelids got too heavy and everything fell away.

 

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but by the time he regained coherent thought Riko wasn’t on top of him anymore and his charred skin was sticking against the concrete floor of the boiler room. Nathaniel didn’t have the time to be disgusted or terrified as he realized the terrible sound around him didn’t come from his own ears ringing, but from a couple of feet away from him where Renee Walker had Riko immobilized. Riko was screaming; Renee had a knee against the back of his head, pressing his nose against the floor, and she had pulled both of his arms behind him so forcefully it was impossible she hadn’t broken something. She was saying something, but the words didn’t register until Nathaniel noticed movement on the stairs and someone bolted out of the room.

“Stay still, Nathaniel,” Renee said. Her voice was different from all the other times they’d met. Nathaniel recognized the tone immediately; it was the same one Ellie had used on him after she’d patched him up two weeks ago. “Matt went to get Coach and our doctor.”

It wasn’t going to happen. Lying on his stomach meant more pressure than necessary against his injured ribs and he couldn’t see much of what was happening on the room around him. He put his hands close to his head on the ground and pushed, taking note, ridiculously, that Riko had broken his thumb after all. The first spark of pain was enough to ignite what had been an infinitesimal amount and Nathaniel’s elbows buckled, his knees hitting the ground. He bit his lip, scared that if he started screaming he wouldn’t stop, until all that came out was a ridiculous whimper. He turned around and tried to sit up, but the pain it required from his middle section made it impossible. By the time he collapsed on the ground, his entire body was trembling and his cheeks felt like they were being pulled apart from his attempts at muffling the screams.

Nathaniel didn’t know how much time passed, but Riko didn’t stop yelling and screaming the entire time. Renee remained quiet, aside from the few times she had to remind him not to fall asleep, and if she was having trouble containing Riko under her, she didn’t show. Usually at times like these Nathaniel would take to evaluating the damage and making sure he could still hold an Exy racquet, but this was the first time he actually felt terrified of what he might find out. He thought of Jean instead, and what it took to get him out of Evermore. He wondered if this would be it for him.

It wasn’t funny, but he couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of him and filled the room dramatically. He couldn’t be laughing loud, considering his lack of strength and the amount of pain it sent roaring down his body, but instantly the sound drowned out Riko’s anger and Renee’s annoying cooing. Nathaniel knew he was hysterical and this was the first sign he was going into shock, but he couldn’t stop. He’d truly thought he was going to die tonight, and the fact that the Foxes had been the ones to rescue him was both ludicrous and ironic. He brought a hand against his mouth to stop the sobs before he started choking. Pain knifed down his face and he felt like he was burning again, but he didn’t trust himself to let go. He didn’t take away his hand even when he managed to stop laughing.

A new sound echoed around the room, and Nathaniel turned his head around to check what it could have been. Renee still had Riko immobilized, but her attention had snapped to the top of the stairs and she looked half-tempted to let go of the Raven beneath her and go investigate. Nathaniel thought of getting up and going himself, but it was only a matter of seconds until the source of the noise appeared at the doorway. Andrew had his hands shoved in his front pockets and looked like he’d just ran a marathon to get here. Vaguely, Nathaniel remembered him guiding Kevin out of the stadium and wondered whether he’d managed to come all the way from the bus so quickly. It seemed impossible, but Andrew had determination written all over his face as he stared at Nathaniel’s bloodied body on the ground.

His façade broke at the same time Nathaniel’s determination to pretend did; the striker’s elbows gave up from where he’d pushed himself to look at the stairs and a pained hiss fell away from his lips. He couldn’t see Andrew when he was lying down like this, but the response was immediate. Nathaniel heard snarling and a curse, and then Andrew was moving, marching down the steps, no doubt on his way to fulfill his promise.

David Wymack’s voice came muffled from the corridor, but he was frantic enough that Nathaniel understood him either way. “I told you not to let him— Jesus, Andrew!”

Trying to look was pointless, so Nathaniel closed his eyes and focused on understanding the situation rather than on the pain still splitting him in half. There were a number of voices now, but only a couple of them came clear enough that they could be inside the boiler room. When Andrew’s snarls stopped, Nathaniel figured that the Foxes had managed to drag him away. He couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Months ago Andrew had promised to make a list out the things Riko had done to him and pay back double when the time came. Andrew’s perfect memory added to the thrill. Despite knowing that making Riko pay wouldn’t come without its consequences, there was a selfish part of Nathaniel that was curious to see how Andrew would reciprocate the violence that had come to him tonight.

The images were interrupted when Nathaniel felt someone squeeze him to get his attention. A dark-skinned woman was leaned over him with a crease between her brows in worry. She was touching a portion of his left hand that wasn’t injured, but Nathaniel recoiled anyway. Slowly, he came to his senses and put a name to her face: Abigail Winfield was the Foxes’ physician and had been sleeping with Wymack for years, now. It was hard being so close to someone he wasn’t familiar with, but Nathaniel recognized she wasn’t a threat and nodded sluggishly when she raised her hands over his torso. Abby set to work immediately. She pulled on his shirt until he was pooled around his shoulders and gasped at the image he made. Nathaniel hated looking at himself in mirrors, but he knew what he looked like from his time with his father and the dozens of mirrors that had been placed around his room. After tonight, he could only imagine what she was looking at.

“It’s going to be okay now, Nathaniel,” she said, gently. “You’re safe. I promise.”


	15. 04-01-14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *is a shitty person who didn't update for four months* you wha wha u looking at me?  
> no but for real im a poor premed student who only had the time to write this like once a month

Nathaniel woke up to a world of pain and the sound of a half-familiar voice shouting directions. For a second he didn't remember what happened and started at the proximity of Nicky Hemmick's face looming over him. Squirming meant hands pulling on his injuries and a near-fall that he was certain would have meant his death. Over him, Kevin snarled and said that he should stay still while they took him to the bus. Belatedly, he understood that he was being carried out of the stadium and that the person shouting was Jeremy Knox guiding them through the complicated maze of corridors. He tried to protest when Kevin, Nicky and Matt Boyd's hands turned his body to fit through an archway, but every time he turned his head Kevin put one hand on the side of his face to keep him from moving his neck.  

Nathaniel had thought Wymack would still be working things out with the administration, but by the time they were out of the stadium the Foxes' bus was waiting for them, their coach inside it. Nathaniel didn’t pay heed to him. He was more concerned with Andrew, standing in front of the bus' door with his arms folded and looking like he was a second away from losing reason. It was the most out of control Nathaniel had ever seen him; his hands were trembling, his breath was uneven and his eyes were full of an emotion difficult to place. When he took a step forward and pulled on Nicky's arm where he was holding Nathaniel's hip, Nathaniel sighed. Andrew had expressed before his intense dislike for him, but this was the one time Nathaniel actually believed it.  

“I'm sorry—” 

Andrew's hand, which had replaced Nicky's where he'd been holding him, tightened its grip hard enough to bruise. “You shut the fuck up,” he said. “You shut the fuck up until we get to Palmetto, and then you start talking until you are unable to speak any more.” 

It was like a bucket of cold water thrown over him. Nathaniel felt himself pale, only for a second, before he started on a new wave of protests that hurt him even worse with the Foxes' hands all over him. At some point, he heard his blood dripping on the floor from an injury on his shoulder where Kevin was holding him firmly, and tried to use it against him to be let down. Unfortunately, Kevin knew better than to believe his tricks and didn't ease his grip enough for Nathaniel to escape.  

For months now Nathaniel had told Andrew he couldn't leave Evermore because of his father and the Moriyamas. Though it was obvious now that he was useless to the second branch, staying with them meant providing the Butcher and Kengo Moriyama with the certainty he wouldn't share their secrets with the FBI. Kevin understood this; it was the reason he hadn't even considered taking Nathaniel with him when he fled to South Carolina a year ago. Andrew knew it too, but the difference between them was that he was willing to stand against one of biggest organized crime families in America in order to keep Nathaniel safe. It was a flattering notion, but Nathaniel didn't have it in him to go through with it, both because he was a coward and also because he couldn't risk Andrew getting hurt for a promise he still couldn't understand.  

“Let me go,” he said. His voice was hoarse from the screaming and from Riko's hands around his neck. “I can't leave the state. I _can't_. Kevin—Kevin. You get it, don't you? You've seen what my father can do. Remember when he killed that man on the first night of my audition? He'll do that to me if I don't come back, and to you and to Andrew and to your father if you insist on harboring me.” 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Kevin's eyes drift from him to where Wymack was standing inside the bus. He'd come closer when the commotion started, but his eyes were confused and resigned as he stared at Nathaniel. It made sense that he didn't understand what Kevin's father might have to do with this; Kayleigh Day had assured him twenty years ago that he was not the father of the bastard son she was carrying. Nathaniel knew it was a cheap trick to use against Kevin—when he had first encountered the note his mother had sent to Coach Moriyama revealing the identity of his father, Nathaniel had been the first person Kevin had come to for support. When Kevin's eyes returned to his own, Nathaniel immediately looked away.  

It seemed like for a moment Kevin was truly considering his options. Though it was obvious he hadn't told Wymack they were father and son, Kevin had flown to South Carolina for a reason and since then had a developed greater attachment to the Foxes’ coach. Taking Nathaniel to Palmetto with them was like lighting up a beacon in front of the Moriyamas' eyes right when they were at their edgiest moment. Kevin's grip loosened for a second, but then one of his hands cupped Nathaniel's chin and turned his head so they were staring at each other.  

“You’re family too,” he said, determined. “I won’t let him have my last bit of integrity left.” 

Nathaniel shook his head in frustration. Unbelievably, tears were freely pouring out of his eyes. “You’re all idiots. He’s gonna kill you all just for thinking you can take me away from him.” 

There was a significant pause for a moment, in which Nathaniel could see the rest of the Foxes exchanging glances and gradually nodding to one another. It didn’t inspire much confidence in him that they were going to let him go. He thrashed one more time in desperation, but finally it was enough for Andrew. The grip on his hip tightened to the point of agony—though Nathaniel noted that the fingers were pressing where there weren’t any wounds—and only eased when he let out a small scream. 

“What the fuck, Andrew—” 

Andrew didn’t let Wymack finish that sentence. “Let’s get this through your idiotic, martyred, thick brain: just because they treat you like you’re nothing doesn’t mean you actually are a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to be saved. Your father can try coming after you but he’ll have to face all of us first—” 

Nathaniel snorted. “That’s _exactly_ what I’m talking about.” 

“I thought I told you to shut up until we’re in Palmetto,” Andrew said, in a curious tone. “One too many hits to the head, maybe? You got a hearing problem from being beat up too hard?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Ah, you do. Want me to draw it for you? Or maybe just—” he said, then put a hand up and gestured his lips shut. “Glad we talked.” 

Andrew didn’t give him a chance to complain again. He gestured to the teammates that were holding Nathaniel’s body up and together they took him into the bus and down to the row of seats on the back. It wasn’t as good as a normal bed, but splayed out and buckled up so he wouldn’t fall during the ride Nathaniel thought he might be able to rest his body up just enough that he could stand when he, inevitably and unwisely, got to Palmetto. 

Someone told him the team nurse—Abby—usually drove the bus around, but she was so worried about him not making through all the bumps on the road that Wymack had taken her place. Once she did a headcount and closed the door of the bus, she walked to where he was lying and pulled his head up so she could sit down. She was gentle, but everything in his head was sore, either from the burns or the hair pulling or the punches Riko had given him. When he hissed, she made a concerned sound with her lips and sweetly began to pet his hair, barely touching him. It shouldn’t have comforted him, but in the haze he was in it reminded him of his mother and nothing else, and Nathaniel found himself humming deliriously to a song she used to sing when he was very little. 

“You can sleep, honey,” Abby mumbled. “No one in this bus is ever gonna hurt you. You’re safe here. You can sleep.” 

Against his better judgement, Nathaniel closed his eyes and let himself drift. 

  

By the time Nathaniel was woken up, it was near dawn and the bus was parked in front of a pretty, suburban one-story house that he doubted belonged to Coach Wymack. He looked around, confused, and saw that the bus was already empty except from Abby still sitting beside him and Andrew leaning on the row of seats in front of him. Nathaniel blinked, trying to get a grip on the situation, but his eyes didn’t open all of the way and they began throbbing in an overly-familiar way. He sighed and tried to sit up on his own, only belatedly remembering they had him strapped to the seats in order to keep him as still was possible. 

Andrew clicked his tongue and took his hands out of his pockets in a lazy, uncommon way. Though he usually went for the uncaring, unhurried act and succeeded greatly at it, now he looked almost hesitant to put his hands on Nathaniel. When Nathaniel looked down despite the pain it caused him, he understood why: blood was leaking from his shirt and on to the seats under him, and there were several patches of his clothes that were burned or ripped in a worrying manner. He tried to look away, but it was inevitable for him to catalog all the scars he already had under his shirt—he didn’t want to find out how many more there were now. 

Practicality won over hesitation and Andrew leaned down and started to unknot the seatbelts from around Nathaniel. His hands were moving slowly and he was being unusually careful no matter how hard he fought to remain stoic. Nathaniel figured that somewhere along the trip he had managed to get himself back together, because the expression on his face was the same unmoving apathetic one he wore like an armor every day. He leaned down, looking unblinkingly at the spot under Nathaniel’s eye that had been burned and where there used to be an ugly tattoo, then stood up straight again when Abby tried to move from under Nathaniel. She moved slowly as to not hurt him any more, but he couldn’t keep his head up when she took it out of her lap and got up. Nathaniel’s head fell on the seat and he hissed, ignoring Abby’s apologies and focusing on keeping himself steady and on his back. 

“Abram,” Andrew said from above him, face closed off and hands close to Nathaniel’s own. “Breathe. We’re at Abby’s. She’s not going to call an ambulance or tell anyone that you’re here, so at least for now you’re safe. Stop panicking and let her patch you back up before you bleed to death.” 

Nathaniel doubted Riko had managed to split him open that badly without a knife, but Andrew’s firm voice and his middle name on his lips calmed Nathaniel down enough that he could understand going along with Andrew’s plan was the current best option. He nodded, slowly, and didn’t fight it when Andrew put his arms under his body and picked him up with a grunt. Nathaniel tried to take some of his weight off of Andrew’s arms, but Andrew snarled when he realized what he was doing. With a sigh, Nathaniel put his arms around Andrew’s neck and let himself be carried off the bus, into a house and down onto a bed. Andrew stepped back and let Abby take his place by Nathaniel’s side. 

“Will I be able to play again?” 

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Junkie.” 

Abby sighed and put her hand lightly over Nathaniel’s dominant hand—the part of him that was aching the most. “I think we need to worry about putting you back up in one piece first. He—” She clenched her jaw for a moment and visibly forced it to go slack again. “Riko knew where to hit.” 

It was the same speech Natalie and Gabriel always gave him when he went to get patched up after a beating at Evermore. Nathaniel felt exhausted at hearing it again and deliberately ignored the way his hands trembled. He knew he’d gotten back to playing with his fingers in worse conditions, but he wasn’t stupid enough not to know the state the Master had the Ravens playing in was less than ideal. There was no other team that would let him play after having three fingers off of his dominant hand broken unless he dedicated an amount of time he didn’t have to healing them. 

“Nathaniel, calm down. It’s very likely you’ll be able to play again. He didn’t crush any bones and most of your skin isn’t pierced through—” 

“You don’t understand. I _have_ to play. He can’t take Exy from me. He _can’t_.” 

“Would you rather he’d killed you? Because that’s what would have happened if Renee hadn’t got there on time.” Andrew paused. “Though I think it’s all the more likely he’d have left you there in a pool of your own blood until dear Ellie took you to the infirmary and they okayed you as soon as your hands could fit in your gloves again.” 

“Fuck you,” Nathaniel said, but he laid back down on the bed all the same and let Abby turn his hand around. 

She worked in silence, which was a both a blessing and a curse. Nathaniel didn’t want to be treated like he was a poor thing, but anything was better than the heavy silence that followed or the obvious staring coming from Andrew, who had sat at Nathaniel’s back like he was still guarding him from something. Every once in a while Abby would look up at him and bite her lips like she wanted to comment, but Nathaniel pretended he didn’t know she was making those eyes at him. It got complicated when she took a pair of scissors and aimed in his direction, but he slowly forced his breathing steady when she explained she needed it to cut through his shirt. The bed moved when Andrew leaned over him, as soon as his chest was exposed, but Nathaniel didn’t see his expression. He knew Andrew was cataloging his injuries and storing them in his perfect memory for when he wanted to take his revenge, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and find himself once more relearning his body and scars and understanding that they could always make them uglier than before. 

“Who knew Riko wanted to be an artist,” Andrew commented. Nathaniel knew better than to believe his seemingly disinterested tone. “Maybe he should change majors while he still can.” 

Nathaniel opened his eyes. “You can’t touch him.” 

“Oh?” Andrew blinked. “Stockholm Syndrome? You can cut the act here.” 

“It’s not an act. I don’t care if Riko lives or dies. I care if you do.” 

Andrew paused. “Then you’re a different type of lunatic,” he said, then turned so he was looking at Abby. “Are you nearly done?” 

“Look at him, Andrew,” Abby said without even looking up. “I’m gonna be here for a few hours.” 

“Hm,” Andrew said. “Text me when you’re done. I need to take care of something,” he said, then stood up and walked out of the room. 

 Nathaniel thought of asking Abby what was up with her goalkeeper, but he didn’t think she knew and he didn’t want her to think that he cared. It was the type of pettiness that the Master abominated but that the Ravens had inherited from the Moriyamas’ entitlement. Nathaniel knew there was a lot more to gain by asking simple questions, but he was already crawling out of his skin from the feel of Abby’s hands over his scars and he didn’t want to show any more vulnerability. Distantly, he heard the sounds of his mother’s bedtime lessons—to hide and to run away from his enemies was his best chance to survive. It had been years since Nathaniel had last thought of his dignity. 

Abby continued to work quietly and eventually moved on from the injuries on his chest to the ones on his head. More than once she explained to him it would be better if he went into a hospital to check for permanent brain damage, since Riko had kicked him on the head so hard and so many times, but walking towards any authorities meant certain death. After the first three times, she sighed and stopped talking altogether. Nathaniel hated seeing the look on her face, like she had seen this kind of behavior too many times before and understood just how helpless she was. Absently, he wondered if she had seen it on Andrew. 

It was impossible for her to be completely in the dark, as she was the team nurse, but somehow he doubted Andrew would go for the sweet brown eyes and resigned smile. Abby looked more like a mother than he was comfortable with. It was such a contrast from Mary Hatford that it made Nathaniel try twice as hard not to hate her for merely what she looked like. She was, he figured, what he’d been missing his entire childhood. Nathaniel instantly felt his fingers itch for a cigarette, but he doubted Abby would let him smoke in her house and in his current state, so instead he let himself be lulled into sleep by her quiet hums as she worked on him. 

When he opened his eyes again it was already dark and there was more than one person in the room with him. It took him a total of two seconds to recognize them as the Foxes. They were all talking to each other in whispers and Abby was clearly explaining something to the ones that seemed more likely to care whether he lived or died. When they saw he was awake, the entire bedroom fell into silence and every eye turned to him. Renee, who was closest to him, reached out with the intent of helping him sit on the bed, but he flinched away from her touch as fast and as far as he could. Nathaniel heard someone click their tongue from the other side of the room and when he turned Andrew was already making way to him with a half-annoyed expression. 

“You need to stop whining this much,” he said, then yanked on Nathaniel’s wrist without enough strength to hurt him further and plopped a pillow behind him. 

Nathaniel scowled, but Andrew’s attention had already been pulled into more pressing matters. When Nathaniel followed his gaze, it was to the doorstep and to a shy version of the man he held closest to his heart. Jean was there, patched up and still full of bruises, but he was walking and his hesitation seemed more from shame than from his injuries. His eyes went wide when he noticed he was the focus of the attention, but Jean put on a brave face nonetheless and came inside the room with only a tiny limp. 

If Nathaniel were any of the other Ravens he would be on the verge of attacking him right now, but he and Jean were two sides of the same coin and Nathaniel’s eyes filled with water at the sight of his best friend alive and well. It seemed silly now, as he had seen Jean walk away from Evermore willingly, but Nathaniel had an inexplicable fear that Jean might not make it through his recovery. Looking at him now, Nathaniel was unable to stop a sob from falling out of his lips. Jean was full of gauze and crooked limbs, but he didn’t look two seconds away from death anymore. If he cared at all, now would be the time to thank Abby for her work. 

Instead he kept his gaze fixed on Jean’s and, though his mouth felt numb—he was every second more certain that Abby had slipped him some kind of anesthetic while she was fixing him—he said, “Hey.” 

Jean said, “ _Mon dieu,_ ” and then, to Renee, “ _Merci. Oh Mon Dieu, merci beaucoup. Je serais mort aussi_.” 

“In English now,” Andrew said, and Nathaniel doubted it was the first time that warning had been given. 

“Just,” Jean choked, his accent strong. “Thank you so much.” 

Renee nodded, but it was stiff and fake. She still had a spot of blood on her cheek, probably one that she hadn’t seen when she washed up, and the sight of it sent Nathaniel’s stomach hurling. He didn’t like that Renee had been the one to save him, no matter her criminal background and fighting skills. She was nothing to him and of him, and now she was marked forever, by the Moriyamas and by his father. Nathaniel could see what Nathan would do to her; could see her bloodied on an alley, left to die slowly and agonizingly. He averted his gaze to the ground, too full of guilt to stare into any of the Foxes’ eyes for a mere second. _I’m sorry_ , he wanted to say, _for being what gets all of you dead_. He would run away if his legs worked at all. 

Unfortunately they didn’t, so Nathaniel sat still while the Foxes crowded the bed he’d been put on. He belatedly realized both the sheets and his clothes had been changed, and he wondered if it was Andrew’s or Aaron’s shirt that he was wearing—and finding that he actually cared. Both twins were smaller than him, but had enough muscle to compensate for the size difference. Thankfully, when he gave it extra thought, he found it nearly impossible to see Aaron, closed off and bitter and slightly homophobic, willingly lending him clothes. 

Nathaniel stored this information to think on later, because right now Danielle Wilds was coming closer and her expression was a little too careful. She opened up a big, fake smile when she reached the corner of the bed and took a long breath in preparation. Nathaniel closed his eyes, resigned to be hearing it, but knowing that he didn’t have any other choice. Danielle—Dan—had only started to mutter the first sound of a hello when the moment was saved by an impatient Jean. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, in French. 

Nathaniel sighed. “That’s what I keep telling them.” 

Andrew, standing just a few inches away from him, took a step in Jean direction and said, in a low, unfazed tone, “In _English_ , if you may.” He was only beginning to look impatient. 

“We’re not discussing it,” Kevin said, in a final tone, because he too understood French. Nathaniel hadn’t seen him standing so close, but now that he noticed, he couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t blame Kevin for leaving, but the jealousy and bitterness were still too fresh on his mind. He didn’t look at him as he talked, opting instead to stare Andrew in the eye like some kind of childish challenge. Kevin continued, “I’m not sending him back to Riko. Not after what he did. With my hand, I thought Riko would have learned not to cross the line again, but he’s taking advantage of Kengo’s state to—he doesn't care whether Nate plays anymore. We all know him. That’s as good as dead to Riko.” 

There was silence after that, but only because they were all thinking of the same thing. Riko wasn’t the real problem in the scenario they were in—in fact, even the Master barely mattered in it. Kengo’s ownership and Nathan’s secrets, however, were much more precious things that needed to be taken into account before anyone decided what to do with Nathaniel. He couldn’t stay with the Foxes like Jean was doing, or go into any other team. It hurt him, but it was the truth. Nathaniel wanted to scream this, to explain to the Foxes just what they had done, but it seemed useless to scare them any further when Kevin, who knew just how deep the secrecy went, had already made up his mind. 

Nathaniel blinked finally, giving up the staring contest with Andrew. He opted instead to a pleading expression and ran a hand over his face when Andrew remained apathetic. _Please_ , he almost said, but he remembered Andrew telling him he didn’t care for that word. Nathaniel didn’t need an explanation for it. He kept the word in his eyes, uncaring of what the Foxes and Jean were saying around him, until finally Andrew looked away and moved to put a hand over Kevin’s forearm. 

“Kevin,” he said, and didn’t have to say anything else. All the Foxes went still, except Kevin made an aborted gesture to cradle his neck and sighed. He nodded. 

His leave from the room was enough of an explanation for the rest of the Foxes. Slowly they began to gather their things and get out as well. It might have been enough for the Foxes, but Wymack and Abby were clearly not having it. Nathaniel felt more than saw the coach take a few steps closer and open his mouth to yell at Andrew, and he wasn’t in the mood to hear any of it right now. He raised his hand in a stop gesture and hoped that Wymack understood him. When the silence in the room remained, Nathaniel figured the message had been given. 

“We’re going to have a talk later, you, me and David,” Abby said after a moment, her voice stern but otherwise relaxing. When Nathaniel nodded, she stepped forward to squeeze a piece of his arm that wasn’t bandaged nor bruised and gave him a fierce shake of her head. Behind her, Nathaniel saw Wymack already stepping out of the room. 

Andrew had stepped back when Abby came closer, and he stared at Nathaniel for a few long seconds before turning around and heading to the door. Nathaniel thought maybe Andrew had misunderstood his plea to talk without a crowd around him, but Andrew merely opened the door and pulled out his most unimpressed expression yet. In front of him were Nicky Hemmick and Allison Reynolds hunched over each other and clearly trying to eavesdrop. Nicky mumbled something incomprehensible and hid himself behind Allison. She tried to be brave, but Andrew needed a much more emotionally detached match.  When the door slammed on their faces, Nathaniel heard her yelp and then the clear sounds of her heels tapping on the stairs. 

“Are your teammates always this stupid?” 

“Beats psychopathic rapists,” Andrew said in a level tone. He locked the door behind him and went to sit on the chair beside the bed where Renee had previously been on. It looked for a second like Andrew might address their situation and the clear fact that he had been on the verge of losing it when he saw Nathaniel bloodied and prone on the floor of the boiler room, but the moment passed and the silence around the room became too heavy. Irrationally, Nathaniel wanted to bend over the bed and put a comforting hand on Andrew’s shoulder, but he found the gesture would be more hurtful towards him than Andrew would find it comforting. He lay still instead, waiting for Andrew to make the next move. 

Andrew stared at the ground like he was trying to figure out what to do, then shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a pack and a lighter. He moved carefully with both objects, probably because Abby and Renee had already filled him in with what kind of torture he had endured tonight, and like he was expecting Nathaniel to respond like a frightened animal. Andrew took out a couple of cigarettes from the pack and slowly opened his lighter. Nathaniel stared, tense, waiting for the moment when he would freak out, and felt surprised when nothing came from it. 

Somewhere throughout the months since they had made their deal Andrew became like a safe haven for Nathaniel, but nothing had been so obvious before. Now, as Andrew lit up both cigarettes and put the lighter back in his pocket like it personally offended him, he simply watched like he had every other time before, his traitor eyes focused more on the slender fingers of Andrew’s hands than on the action taking place. That was an awkward change, as well, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. He chose not to deal with it at all. Everything was crumbling down in his life at the moment, and it seemed like Andrew was the only unmoving force holding him it. It was confining and liberating all at once, and Nathaniel wanted to choke on it. A shudder went through his entire body at the admission. 

“Abram,” Andrew said, and it was an acknowledgement and an order both. He had extended a cigarette with his left hand, and the normalcy of the gesture was enough to calm Nathaniel enough so that he could speak again. 

Nathaniel took the cigarette and brought it to his lips, but he didn’t inhale. It had been long enough that he didn’t ache for the nicotine anymore; he ached for memory of his mother and the few moments of true safety that he knew. She had been a smoker, but more addicted than Andrew was, or any of the people who used to frequent Nathan’s house when they all still lived together. Tonight it seemed like the only connection he still had left with her was this—the acrid smoke that was quickly taking up the whole room and would in no time reach the living room where the rest of the Foxes were. It was achingly depressing even without the shaking that had taken over his body at some point of the past few minutes. He knew how weak he must look like to Andrew. 

When his cigarette had burned to the filter and Andrew was taking the next two out of his pack, Nathaniel said hesitantly, “I don’t know how to start.” 

Andrew leveled him with a glare and passed him another cigarette without saying anything. His unfazed ways were the only constant in Nathaniel’s life and gave him enough strength to make up his mind. He wondered, for a moment, if that was the reason Andrew did anything with and to him nowadays. It was obvious that he cared, but Nathaniel couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. It didn’t really matter, so he took a deep breath and started talking. 

Nathaniel was aware that Andrew already knew a lot of because of Kevin, but he started with the first important thing he could remember anyway. It was a memory of his parents arguing when he was very little, his mother in tears and his father with a heavy fist. At the time he couldn't understand what was happening, but it soon became clear when Moriyama scouts started to crowd Nathaniel's Exy games. 

It began to flow off his tongue without restraint; he had never told this to anyone before and it felt like a relief to be able to admit to everything he'd been put through. He told Andrew about his mother's constant fear of his failure and his father's increasing threats for him to get better. Andrew listened to him recount his traumatic childhood with perfect nonchalance and not once took his eyes off Nathaniel. His hands turned into fists by the time Nathaniel got to when his father's abuse started, but he gestured for him to go on any time he hesitated. 

Talking through the negotiation meetings that he hadn't been aware were happening were tricky because he'd only learned of them through Kevin's and Riko's stories, but he knew enough about the terms of his adoption to fill Andrew in. Nathaniel though he heard Andrew puff when he began listing the rules he needed to follow inside the Nest, but Andrew didn't interrupt him. He went on and put off as long as possible Riko's attraction to him. Andrew realized exactly what he was doing and told him to get on with it. 

It had been so many years of living through Riko's abuse that his infatuation had turned simply into something else Nathaniel had to deal with, but talking about it made it seem even worse than Nathaniel saw it in his head. He had learned to take it as a casualty when in fact it was a sick kind of torture that had been bringing him down to rock bottom. He tried alternating between their growing attachment and Nathan's insistence on training him to take over his empire as the Butcher of Baltimore but Andrew's eyes were too knowing for him to bear. Nathaniel broke their eye contact first and stared at the ground in a poor attempt at calming down. 

He didn't realize he was hyperventilating until Andrew was standing over him on the bed and the palm of his hand was pressing warm and solid against his neck. It was the sort of grounding presence that Nathaniel had had in his mother and that he had grown to associate with Andrew himself. Knowing that he was inside four walls and with the most capable person he knew that could protect him was enough for his peak of anxiety to decrease. Nathaniel's eyes focused again, and when he looked up, Andrew was staring at the headboard behind him and looking like he wanted to storm into Castle Evermore himself and cut Riko into small pieces. 

 “He can't get away with it,” he said through gritted teeth. Nathaniel had never seen him so out of control. 

“No. But he's not worth you going to jail.” 

Andrew nodded, but he didn't seem very understanding. He continued to stare at the headboard and Nathaniel noticed for the first time that his free hand was clenched tightly into a first. Nathaniel knew just how dangerous Andrew could be even unarmed, but belatedly he remember their conversation at his mother's old house and Andrew's admittance that he carried weapons around to protect himself and his own. Nathaniel thought to hold on to his wrist until he was calm again, but Andrew's reaction to it was unpredictable and he didn't want risk getting Andrew's anger directed at him. He stayed still, waiting, until the palm holding his neck eased and then retracted. Andrew sat back at the edge f the bed and gestured for him to continue his story. 

Nathaniel told him, with less detail than Andrew was probably expecting, but he didn't say anything if it bothered him. He told him about growing up in the Nest and becoming good enough for the Perfect Court, and of his mother's words on the brink of death when the Butcher went to get the money she'd stolen from the crash site. Andrew remained stoic this time, sitting on top of his hands so he didn't start throwing punches, and didn't say a word even when Nathaniel started on his actual relationship with Riko. He tried glossing over the worst parts for both their sakes, but Andrew glared at him when he noticed it and didn't stop until Nathaniel had started over and made a retelling of things the way they actually happened. Surprisingly, it was easier like this, in a closed off room somewhere he wasn't entirely familiar with, because he knew like this he was away from Riko. Andrew's reaction helped as well, but maybe only because he knew partially what Nathaniel felt like. They were two broken and irreparable things, but Nathaniel had been hurt too recently. 

“Tell me about how you got in the boiler room with him,” Andrew said, finally, when Nathaniel took a moment to breathe after telling him about his father's phone calls after his outings had been found out. 

Nathaniel nodded, but he didn't open his mouth to start. It seemed like there was actual glue sealing his lips together and that was why he couldn't get them to open. Andrew waited, patient, but only for a certain time. He put his hand over Nathaniel's knee when he started taking too long. Nathaniel was surprised to see that his eyes were clearer than ever—not only because he'd stopped with the drugs, but because this conversation was as somber to him as to Nathaniel. It helped, but not enough. They stared into each other's eyes until it was too intense for him to continue. Nathaniel turned his gaze to the ceiling and sighed. 

“Kevin told Riko I sent the tip in,” he said. 

“That has been taken care of already,” Andrew said with a small nod, and Nathaniel had the distinct feeling there was a lot more to the story. The image of Kevin making an aborted motion to cradle his neck came to mind. It seemed incongruent Andrew would ever hurt Kevin in any way, especially by nearly strangling him to death, but Andrew had promised that he would do whatever was in his power to keep Nathaniel alive. To have one of his own risk that must have felt like betrayal, no matter that Kevin only meant to save himself. 

There was a number of ways Nathaniel could address that, but he played dumb instead. This conversation was tiresome in its own without adding the subject of Andrew's promises to it. Nathaniel wasn't ready to talk about it and he didn't know when he would be; it seemed easier to keep Andrew and the Foxes on the frontlines against his father and the Moriyamas if he didn't admit that they were real people who cared for him and for each other. He looked away from Andrew's gaze a second time, and kept his own locked on the bed sheets covering his lower body. 

“Abram,” Andrew called. “Tell me what happened tonight.” 

It was the tone of his voice that made Nathaniel go on. When Andrew didn’t try hard to repress his feelings, he usually sounded like there was a bottomless pit of anger inside of him that he was afraid to show to the world. Nathaniel understood that, because it was what had once tagged him as the emotionless guard dog. Yet, as Andrew leaned slightly closer, not enough to imply he was initiating contact but in a way Nathaniel recognized it for the attempt at comfort that it was, he sounded strangely and utterly resigned.  

It was enough to set him talking the way Andrew wanted him to. He explained everything, every detail, of what he remembered happening that afternoon at the banquet, of Riko’s arms around him and Ellie’s constricting grip as she dragged him towards the boiler room for what she thought would be another one of Riko’s regular punishments. He had to pause for a moment to explain Ellie wasn’t to blame for this when he saw Andrew’s fists clenching every time her name was mentioned, and only went on when Andrew nodded and said this was just one more thing he was going to punish Riko for. 

He stopped talking when he reached Renee’s appearance after his black out, both because he wasn’t entirely sure of what happened and because Andrew had been there to testify it. Nathaniel half expected Andrew to start prodding him with more questions, but Andrew only stared at him, processing and memorizing his words. It would have been comical if it wasn’t so serious; to leave Andrew Minyard speechless. He waited, then, until Andrew approached him again. 

“You don’t have to play here,” the goalkeeper said, surprisingly. When Nathaniel didn’t answer, he went on, “Jean doesn’t either. He and Kevin have too much history to play together again, so Kevin’s been talking to Jeremy Knox about transferring Jean to the Trojans once he heals. I’m sure they’ll be able to find a place for you in their team.” 

“I don’t want it,” Nathaniel said impulsively, then blinked when he realized it was the truth. “I want to play for this team. I have three more years in college and I’ll find a way to beat Riko with you, even if that means losing a season to make this shitty team real competition for the Ravens. I don't want to _run_ from him anymore—I want to destroy the one thing he loves by taking it from him." 

"Exy," Andrew suggested, but remained apathetic when Nathaniel's silence confirmed it. "Revenge isn't enough to rebuild your life around." 

"Is that why you killed your own mother?" 

Andrew slid him a cold look. "Wrong. I killed her because I promised her I would. She knew what would happen when she raised her hand to beat my brother further into depression." 

Nathaniel suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and instead leaned over the side of the bed to take a pack nearly falling off of Andrew's front pocket. Andrew watched him do it, his body suddenly rigid, but his expression went back to stoic when Nathaniel laid on the pillow again and made a motion like he wanted a light. It was lazy and vexing, but Andrew indulged him anyway, maybe because he was lying in the Foxes' nurse's bed after a near-death experience or because of whatever he'd been referring to at the banquet that had made Ellie choke. Thinking about it made his head hurt, so Nathaniel simply acknowledged the gesture with a nod and tried to come up with the next best thing to keep the conversation going. He had found, through sheer experience, that keeping silent after a beating sent him down into a spiral he didn't want to ever experience again. 

It him that he didn't know enough about Andrew to initiate small talk, but he supposed even if he did, that was the kind of conversation Andrew loathed the most. That, at least, Nathaniel had already understood: Andrew thought before he spoke and he never beat around the bush. It was quality that he both envied and hated, especially in the last few months when he'd been resigned to acknowledge how much of a coward he was. Nathaniel could easily ask Andrew about earlier at the banquet and his cryptic messages, but he had a feeling he'd need to use that truth from months ago in his mother's old house at the surbubs to get a straight answer and that wasn't the type of talk to have when he was almost floating with the effects of medicine. 

His mind provided him with the images of Andrew bloodied and beaten in a forest almost a year ago and thought now was as good time as ever to ask what he'd been wondering ever since. "Why did you trust Kevin with me when you went to rehabilitation?" 

Andrew fiddled with an unlit cigarette he'd taken from his pack and thought his answer through for almost an entire minute, then fished his lighter again and lit it carefully. Nathaniel blinked when he realized it was Andrew's way of asking one more time whether he was okay with it so close to him after what he had happened. After not getting any real reaction from him, Andrew held it against the tip of cigarette and lit it. Once he'd put it away, Andrew's golden eyes turned to Nathaniel's and he drawled, "Is this one more of your truth for truth propositions? If it is, I must remind you, you only have the right to one answer from me." 

"It's not," Nathaniel said, on cue. "I'm not collecting. I'm asking." 

"You seem awfully sharp-tongued for someone who was nearly beaten to death. Perhaps I should tell Coach you're up and ready for the court?" Andrew said, but he didn't move from his chair or put his cigarette down. "You're a coward and would sell out your own mother to keep yourself alive, but unless you actually needed to, you wouldn't fuck up Kevin's life for sheer pettiness. It's why you didn't tell Riko where Kevin went after he'd broken his hand until it was too late and Coach was giving a press conference." 

"The monster believes in true friendship, after all," Nathaniel sang, just to be spiteful. 

Andrew shrugged it off as the defensive commentary it was and took another drag of his cigarette. "If I'm the monster, I suppose you'll be the beauty sent to save me from myself?" 

"Neither one of us needs saving," Nathaniel said. "We're not broken, we're surviving." 

That earned him a cool glance and Andrew shifted in his seat so he was turned directly to Nathaniel. He stubbed his cigarette out in Abby's nightstand and flicked the ashes remaining looking particularly unconcerned. When he looked at Nathaniel again, there was a difficult expression on his face. "I hate you." 

"So you keep saying," Nathaniel mused. "Every day I believe you less." 

"You shouldn't," Andrew said, then stood up from the chair and made for the door. Whatever he saw in Nathaniel's face stopped him dead in his tracks and he took a deep breath. "I'm going to talk to Coach about your earnest transference to the Foxes and the conditions of your being here. Sleep, Abram." 

Nathaniel opened his mouth to respond to that, but he didn't know what he was going to say. Admitting that he didn't want to be left alone somehow seemed even more humiliating than Andrew seeing him at his worst in that boiler room. He worried his lip between his teeth and tried to pretend like he hadn't been about to beg Andrew not to leave him. 

He shouldn't have bothered or worried about it; Andrew was an easier read to him than to most people and he figured it went both ways. Silently, Andrew walked the few steps remaining to the bed and hesitantly reached out to touch Nathaniel's jawline. His touch, when it came, was less forceful than Nathaniel had been expecting, and the surprise was what made him pliant to Andrew's movements. The goalkeeper turned his head so he was looking at the ceiling and said, almost forcefully bored, "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." 

Nathaniel wanted to refute it, but Abby's pain meds were finally catching up to him. He nodded when Andrew didn't immediately retreat his fingers and closed his eyes, noting, in a half-thought between consciousness and sleep, that Andrew had still not walked away when he finally fell asleep.


	16. 05-01-14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was so excited to write this chapter!! i'm sorry it took so long, BUT as you all know, i'm in premed and that's :) and also i wrote 3k yesterday at 4am on my phone and it magically disappeared from the cloud when i went to check it this morning, so i had to write the final 5k all over again today, the second-to-last day of my winter break. ahem. never trust onedrive, folks, never trust onedrive.
> 
>  **chapter warnings:** canon-compliant minor character death (good riddance), the r-word, allusions to andrew's past, lots of drinkin, lots of drugs, neil making heart eyes at andrew  
>  i did NOT beta this because i SUCK!!!

The next couple of days passed by in a sway between something akin to consciousness and sleep due to the heavy pull from Abby’s pain medicine. Reluctantly, Nathaniel had to learn to depend on each of the Foxes as he was incapable of so much as sitting up on the bed without outside help, though most of the time he was accompanied by the group the team half-fondly thought of as the Monsters: Nicky because of his outgoing nature and his previously awakened instincts to nurture—as he himself had put it—, Aaron because of his interest in anything medicine, and Andrew for reasons that were, apparently, as obvious to Nathaniel as to the rest of the Foxes, considering not one of them ever tried to intervene when Andrew stayed a few hours further than their makeshift babysitting schedule predicted.

Nathaniel had only regained coherency on the second day of his recovery, after Abby had insisted she give him a heavier dosage of morphine now that the adrenaline had finally melted away, which was fortunate, since the Trojans’ representative was supposed to contact Wymack a few hours later and the coach wanted to hear from Nathaniel’s own mouth that he had no interest in joining their roast for next season. Nathaniel didn’t, but he soon learned that Jean was more than eager to do so; he and Kevin couldn’t, true to Andrew’s word, stay just the two of them in a room without chaos ensuing. The one time they tried, Nicky whispered, Kevin had come out with a swollen eye and Andrew had had to be physically held down so as to not take his revenge on a man already down. It didn’t help that Andrew already hated Jean for all the things he’d let Riko do to Nathaniel in the Nest, but Nathaniel didn’t offer that up in the conversation that followed with the oblivious cousin.

On day four Kevin and Jean flew to California to discuss the transfer and the subsequent rumors that would come out—especially when Jean showed up beaten up at SoCal—and they didn’t let out any details in Nathaniel’s presence. For a moment Nathaniel thought to be offended, but he figured Jean was too guilty and Kevin too humiliated to submit themselves—and him—to any kind of conversation just yet. Still, Nathaniel knew better than to hope Kevin would keep his mouth shut for much longer; he, more than any of the Foxes, understood and feared what was coming for them any moment now.

It was impossible that neither his father nor the Moriyamas knew where he was, but that they did and hadn’t yet attempted to snatch him away from under the Foxes’ hands was what concerned him the most. He told Andrew this one night, his voice trembling, but Andrew had held onto the collar of his borrowed shirt and ordered him not to worry about it. It was an empty promise when Nathaniel nodded, feeling too tired to fight Andrew’s truly gigantic stubbornness, because he knew that he could do nothing _but_ worry at a time like this.

Abby cleared him for walking around the house on day six after hearing one too many complaints about him never needing so much bedrest in his life before and how he would lose all his muscle from lying in bed too long. He must have been annoying even then, because two days later she told him he was allowed to move into the Fox Tower if he so wished, and Nathaniel, after a momentary shock that had him standing still in front of her for longer than would have been normal, realized it was one of the things that gave him actual hope that his life was about to get better. He phoned Wymack and told him that he was ready to take him on up on the offer to work as an assistant coach for the entire time he was recovering since it was obvious that in this season—if he didn’t get killed first—he would barely be able to walk without clutches, let alone play through an Exy match. Wymack only gave him a five-minute earful about being careful about his injuries and replayed his empty promise to throw Nathaniel out on the street if he ever even thought of stepping into the court before Abby had explicitly cleared him. It was weird being cared for by someone that was so far away from his age range, but Nathaniel found, surprisingly, that he didn’t mind him as much as he did most of adult men and women.

Getting Coach to let him move to the Fox Tower proved itself to be tricky, however. Even after Nathaniel hung up the phone so Wymack could hear it directly from Abby that he was clear to be moving around so much, the man was reluctant to let someone as public and as endangered as him to wander around a campus that was only half-full most of the time. It was only when Andrew showed up later that evening and promised Coach that Nathaniel would never be left alone in public spaces that the coach, though grim-faced and hesitant, agreed. Hearing that an adult trusted a twenty-year-old so much that he’d put one of his player’s lives in his hands was one thing, but actually seeing it actually impressed Nathaniel. After almost an entire year of Andrew keeping his promises, however, he couldn’t help admit he trusted Andrew that much, as well.

Arranging the rooming scheme proved itself to be almost as complicated as getting permission to move in. Though the Foxes had spare rooms from their recently-graduated players, everyone agreed that putting Nathaniel into a room by his own was less than ideal. It was a thoughtful gesture, but it meant someone would have to switch rooms so he could take one of the bunkbeds the biggest dorms offered. Rooming with the girls was vetoed at first, but after Nicky reminded the team of Nathaniel’s lack of sexuality it was put to the vote as well. The upperclassmen were the ones really making a fuss—Andrew, Aaron and Kevin looked like they’d rather be anywhere else but the common area at the stadium making these kinds of decisions. Finally Aaron had said, looking rather like he was forced to do it, that he and Nicky could take the spare room and Andrew could stay with his protégés if it was so important. The upperclassmen had stayed silent like they all expected Andrew to protest, but they seemed to take his silent like an affirmation and, in little time, they were helping move the boxes in and out of the rooms.

It was such a difference from how the Ravens worked that Nathaniel had to take a moment to himself and breathe. It barely even made sense to him; the Foxes didn’t know him at all and he was deliberately putting them in danger just by associating with them, and yet they treated him like he deserved to be welcomed into the arms of their makeshift family. It was both heartwarming and suffocating. After being treated like an inconvenience for most of his life, Nathaniel didn’t know how to receive any kind of affection that was genuine and without an agenda behind it. He sped down the halls, searching for somewhere he wouldn’t be bothered by a well-meaning Fox, and was about to take the elevator down when unassuming steps caught up to him.

“Ungrateful much?” Andrew said, but his face was blank and he seemed to be in a relatively neutral mood.

“That’s not fair,” Nathaniel argued, pointing a finger at Andrew’s chest. It took him a moment to realize what he’d done; this was probably his first time touching Andrew so deliberately, and in such a trivial situation. Andrew tensed under his touch but didn’t back away from it. “I just…”

“…don’t know how to handle it?” Andrew scoffed. He stepped away from Nathaniel’s touch and moved around him, past the elevator and towards the stairwell. If it wasn’t already obvious what he wanted, he lingered by the first step, with his back to Nathaniel, until Nathaniel started to follow.

The steps ended at a door with a faded sign that read “Roof Access – Maintenance Staff Only”. Though it appeared locked, Andrew only had to fumble with the handle for a few seconds for it to open. There was enough practice in the movement for Nathaniel to figure Andrew had been taking this access for a good enough time. Nathaniel kept quiet and followed Andrew out into a stone-clad rooftop and the chilly weather of South Carolina. It was going to take a while to get used to it.

Standing on the rooftop of the Fox Tower sent a shudder through Nathaniel’s body at the memory of his and Andrew’s encounter at SoCal right before everything turned sour. Absentmindedly, he remembered wondering what kind of maniac stood at the top of buildings when they were afraid of heights. Andrew walked to the end of the roof and straddled the ledge before producing a pack of cigarettes that Nathaniel was now familiar with. It didn’t take more than Andrew extending him one for Nathaniel to follow.

When he sat down, Andrew had pink cheeks from the cold and his breath was slightly labored. This time Nathaniel couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What are you doing at the roof if you’re afraid of heights?”

Andrew’s lack of answer was irritating, but expected. Still, he took a deep inhale of his cigarette and surveyed the campus with familiarity. Nathaniel tried not to stare at it with much disdain; though PSU wasn’t what he considered a small university, its campus was about half the size of Edgar Allan’s and the limits of its athletic sector were a lot more visible. Disinterested, he turned back to where Andrew was already staring at him, a tilt to his head indicating that he was turning something over in his mind. Finally Andrew blew the smoke directly on Nathaniel’s face and, when Nathaniel coughed, pulled him close and placed two fingers over his neck.

“Feeling,” he said, though his tone was sarcastic. Nathaniel saw right through it.

“Your pills didn’t erase your emotions. They heightened them, and added a state of euphoria to it. I read your file, remember?” Nathaniel said, but Andrew only blew more smoke in his direction. This time Nathaniel was ready for it and ducked, just enough that he swayed over the ledge and had to put a hand to the ground to keep steady. It was easy to forget that he was still a walking bruise after only a single week since the beating. He said, in a half-hearted attempt at redirecting the conversation, “Wymack said I need to use my crutches if I want to start coaching soon.”

“You need crutches, period,” Andrew mumbled. “You’re being stupid. Ignoring medical advice isn’t going to make you play earlier, it’s just going to make sure you heal wrongly and more slowly. Or have you not heard the exact same words from Kevin, repeatedly?”

Nathaniel had heard it, every day since Kevin came back from California, every time Kevin was scheduled to take care of him at Abby’s house when he could barely get to the bathroom on his own. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand that they had a point; it was just that after so many years having it ingrained into him that needing any extra help because of his injuries was a good way to get himself the Master’s disapproval, it was hard to accept all the care the Foxes—and Abby—were showering him with. Kevin didn’t understand because for so many years he was the star of Evermore, always in the eye of the public and getting checked every five seconds for injuries and signs of recovery. The Moriyamas’ heartless policy of no whining about injuries didn’t apply to him the same way they did to Nathaniel and anybody else that they considering property. Jealousy tasted bitter on his tongue even now, whenever Nathaniel thought about it.

Andrew reached for the untouched cigarette between Nathaniel’s fingers and tossed it over the building. “I have some news for you, Abram. You’re not at Evermore anymore. You’re not going to get away with trying to brush off a major injury and go back to playing,” he said. Andrew tossed his own cigarette the same way he’d tossed Nathaniel’s. “Why are you still calling yourself your father’s name?”

The question startled Nathaniel enough that he blinked, repeatedly and vacantly, until the words had finally made sense. He knew what Andrew was talking about, but he hadn’t thought Andrew would have thought to extend the courtesy of Abram to the rest of the Foxes. His mind ran over his discussion of his middle name, all those months ago at the main square of Charlottesville. Even knowing that Andrew had an eidetic memory, he still caught himself surprised every time the name came out of Andrew’s lips. Nathaniel knew that Andrew cared, to some level, but it was so at odds with everything that he represented to the Foxes and to everyone at Evermore that he caught himself saying it, over and over again.

“Abram Wesninski,” he said. “Can I really be him?”

Andrew hummed. “I’d say drop the Wesninski as well, but I guess you’re still the rabbit in this story,” he said. “Do you want to be Abram?”

“Yes,” he said, and found that it wasn’t hard at all to do so.

Abram looked out at the Palmetto State campus and smiled.

 

On the morning of day twelve, Abram awakened to his burner phone buzzing. It was under his pillow, along with the phone he used when he was at Evermore, and it woke him up before dawn with a series of notes that could only come from one person. He opened his eyes immediately and stared at the ceiling. Even knowing that it was coming, Abram had foolishly hoped that he would have more time with the Foxes than just this; a handful of dinner dates exploring Palmetto with the upperclassmen, nights watching sundown at the roof with Andrew, and a single visit to the PSU court with Kevin. It was delusional and unachievable, but Abram never wanted to let go.

He took the phone from under the pillow and stared at the contact name for Lola Malcom. He didn’t want to see what the text she’d sent said, but it wasn’t like it was unexpected of her to taunt him when she knew he was at his most vulnerable. Abram flicked the phone open and held his breath. The message was to the point and matched Lola’s style: “ _Lying with the hounds doesn’t mean you’re not a part of the nest anymore. I’m coming for you, Nathaniel._ ” Abram thought of deleting it immediately, but Andrew moved on the mattress atop of his and he found that, for some stupid reason, he wanted to come to a point where he trusted Andrew enough to show him this. It wouldn’t be today or any time soon, but he didn’t think Lola or his father would act so soon after a scandal that was still being suffocated. Besides, it wasn’t like the Foxes would be caught unprepared. Abram had made it clear that they had become a target the moment they’d accepted him and Jean into their home.

He would have continued his routine of mingling with the Foxes and getting closer to Andrew without a second thought if the next day he hadn’t gotten a text similar to the one before, and on the next day, and on the next day. By the time he was ready to start as an assistant coach with Wymack, Lola had become a top priority inside his head. Abram hated himself for getting so affected by her threats, but he knew what she was capable of doing and he was afraid that they would try to get one of the Foxes, if not himself, as a way to draw him out of hiding. It was so like Lola that Abram found himself turning protective over the team whenever they went out, coming to the point that he constantly suggested they stayed at the Fox Tower and caught him up with movies he’d missed seeing growing up rather than roam around the city drunk and inconsequential like the Foxes had a habit of doing at night outs.

His paranoia quickly made itself known to the Foxes, however, and he stopped having a say in their plans. On Saturday of the second weekend, Andrew approached him before he left their room to Seth and Matt’s dorm and threw a bag in his direction. Abram took it, confused, until he peered inside and found a change of dark clothes carefully folded. He stared at Andrew for a long moment before closing the door and turning back to sit on one of the beanbags in their living room.

“I’m taking you to Columbia,” Andrew said, like it explained everything. When Abram continued to stare at him expressionlessly, he explained, “You’ve been avoiding going out with the upperclassmen because you don’t think they can handle themselves if someone from your deep dark past shows up. You don’t have to worry about it with me, Aaron and Kevin. Thankfully, Nicky’s just stupid enough that if anything happens he’ll come running to us. So, I’m taking you to Columbia with us.”

“What’s in Columbia?”

“Dinner and alcohol. We used to live there with Nicky after he took us in and we worked at a club part-time. We don’t have to wait in line to get in and I don’t have to drive back drunk because we’ve got a place to crash at the end of the night. It’s a good deal, if you ask me.”

Abram squinted. “I’m not asking you. I already know what kind of sick things you do to your teammates out at that club,” he said, and Andrew looked at him intensely before going back to his usual blank expression.

Abram remembered reading it in Andrew’s file a couple of months ago after he decided to further his knowledge of the person he was trusting his life with. Nearly two years ago when Andrew first started at PSU he’d taken Matthew Boyd to Columbia and given him speedballs. It wasn’t forced, but Matt was in a rollercoaster ride to sobriety and his sob story was too alike Aaron Minyard’s for Andrew’s taste. The episode clearly wasn’t planned in a completely malicious set of mind, since it was what drew Boyd to get help with his family, but it was enough for Abram to understand that Columbia was a test that Andrew applied on the newcomers he thought were a threat to him and his. Abram didn’t think the criteria applied to him, but with Lola’s threats and the constant guilt of being in Palmetto he didn’t think he had it in him to withstand something of the sorts.

Andrew crossed his arms like remembering the occasion wasn’t more than a simple bother. “If you don’t think I’ve already run through every possible conspiracy theory about your relationship with the Foxes and your being here and ruled out the possibility that you’re a Riko-sent minion, you’re more stupid than I thought,” he said. “I’m taking you out because I’ve seen what happens to a Raven that gets cornered and isn’t handed a bottle of alcohol. Think of it as a favor.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you’re one for favors.”

Andrew shrugged. “I never said I wouldn’t collect later,” he said. “Dress up if you’re coming with us. Kevin’s already waiting for us at Aaron and Nicky’s room.”

Abram nodded and gathered the bag back into his hand before making towards the bedroom. He and Andrew usually didn’t mind changing in front of each other during mornings and nights, but he felt particularly exposed today under Andrew’s scrutiny. He considered locking the door when he got in, but he doubted Andrew would disrespect such a clear plea for privacy as going to another room. Abram threw the bag on the bed and took out the clothes Andrew had picked for him. They were an obvious match to Andrew’s own closet, all black and non-revealing, which reminded Abram of the clothing he’d normally wear at public events at Evermore but not so much that he felt uncomfortable wearing them.

When he finished changing, Abram spent another minute trying to get his curls away from his face and looked himself up and down at the mirror. He looked as expected after only two weeks of a beating that had the intention of killing him, but he had enough experience with makeup that he’d managed to hide the less terrifying scars on his face. The shirt Andrew had picked had a high collar, probably exactly so that he could hide the bruises around his neck. There was nothing he could do about the injuries on his cheeks that still needed bandaging or the sling that Abby insisted he wear around his left forearm and hand, but, Abram thought, he cleaned up more nicely than he thought he ever would at this state.

Abram bundled his discarded clothes and threw them in the laundry basket close before leaving the room. Andrew was already gone and he’d left the door open, a clear indication for him to hurry up. After checking that he hadn’t forgotten his keys, wallet and phones, Abram closed the door behind him and made for the door at the end of the hall that Aaron and Nicky had recently moved into.

He didn’t need to get inside; at his first knock the door flew open and Nicky greeted him with a wide smile and a congratulatory hug on finally ditching the crutches. Aaron walked out soon after, his shoulder hard when he bumped into Nicky’s back and sent both him and Abram stumbling down the hall.

“Stop acting like children,” Kevin said, frowning, while he waited for Andrew to lock the door.

Nicky disentangled from Abram and threw a sour look his way. “You’re being stingy,” he said, then proceeded to bounce down the hall like it hadn’t happened.

Abram waited until Andrew was at his side before following. He didn’t know what expect of tonight and he wanted to make clear to Andrew how much trust was going into this gesture. Andrew didn’t acknowledge him or his clothes when they started walking alongside each other, but he did slow down when Abram’s bad leg prevented him from going the same rhythm as the others.

Down the hall the door of Matt’s room opened and the upperclassmen got out in a cluster. Allison was laughing as Seth pretended to dive a half-hearted punch from her. They stopped when they saw the Nicky and Kevin coming in their direction and their eyes widened when they realized Abram was following. Nicky shot them a grin and walked past them like it was a normal thing for Abram to ditch them for the Monsters. Abram was hoping to do the same, but Matt got his voice back before he could.

“Abby told me she cleared you off the clutches.” He said it like he wanted to be excited, but his mind was clearly somewhere else. Abram didn’t want to deal with it.

“See you tomorrow,” he said. Andrew brushed past him and touched the small of his back lightly enough that a shudder went down Abram’s spine, but when Abram turned to look at him he hadn’t even slowed down on his way to where Nicky had already called for the elevator. Abram wondered at that touch, still feeling it even when he heard Dan asking for his attention.

“Where are you going?” She asked when he finally looked at her.

“Columbia,” he said, like he didn’t want to hear it.

Dan said it anyway. “Abram, that’s a bad idea. You don’t know what he’s capable—”

“I know,” he said, and left her to interpret that as she wanted.

He rushed towards the elevator where Kevin was looking at him impatiently and shoved himself between Aaron and Andrew. Nicky looked at him funny, but didn’t say anything as the elevator went down. When Andrew unlocked the car Abram waited for Aaron to get in before he could take the window seat where he’d have more space to stretch his leg, but Andrew pulled Kevin from the front seat by the back of his shirt and had him nearly falling off the car and onto the concrete of the parking lot.

“Abram’s got front,” he said, then went around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat without another word. Abram tried refuting his decision only once, but Andrew threatened to start the car and drive away without him inside. He rolled his eyes and got in, thankful because at the front he could give his injured knee a break but sorrowful because it meant they spent the entire drive to Columbia hearing Kevin bitch about seating at the back, until Andrew finally tired from him and threatened to leave him on the side of the road if he didn’t shut up.

Andrew drove like he knew the way by heart and only started respecting traffic laws when they were inside the city. He tapped on the wheel impatiently every time they had to stop at a red light and honked at slow drivers in front of him. When they finally slowed down, it was because they’re entered a small paving stone parking lot and he was searching for a spot. He found one near the entrance and Nicky whooped when they were finally parked. Aaron scolded him from the backseat and eagerly opened the door once Andrew had them unlocked.

The restaurant was clearly busy when the five of them went inside, but Nicky went to speak with the receptionist and they were escorted to a booth with a sign that read “Reserved for Nicholas Hemmick”. When the woman was gone, Nicky quickly shoved his hands under a bunch of napkins and sighed once he got them out. Abram frowned and raised one of the napkins at the center of the table. Under it were a bunch of packets full with a yellow-ish powder that he quickly recognized as cracker dust. He looked around the table, his eyebrows heavy, but not one of them batted an eyelash at his expression. Abram felt strangely disappointed.

“Don’t make that do-gooder expression. There’s a lot worse running around the Nest, if Kevin’s to be believed,” Andrew said, taking a couple of packets and shoving them into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Want one?”

“Drugs are a good way to getting yourself killed,” Abram said, still frowning.

“Did mommy teach you that? Riko certainly didn’t, or Kevin wouldn’t take them like aspirin.”

“Kevin has a different way of running away. I prefer to do it more literally,” Abram said, but he pushed a stray packet under the napkins anyway when he saw a waiter approaching.

Nicky noticed what he was doing and lightly tapped his hand from across the table. “Don’t worry, they all know.” He winked. He turned to the waiter and said, brightly, “We’re here for the ice cream special.” Abram wondered if it was the code they used for the drugs.

The waiter nodded, scrambled the flavor each of them were having, and went off without batting an eye at the obvious pile of napkins at the center of the table. Abram looked around the restaurant in disbelief, but no one seemed to notice a thing. At the other end of the room, he thought he saw someone dipping yellow power into their ice cream and eating it like it was another type of topping. By the time the waiter came back with their bowls, Aaron and Nicky were engaged in a heated conversation while Kevin pointed avoided Abram’s eyes.

Abram spent more time staring at Andrew’s diabetes-inducing bowl than eating his own plain vanilla ice cream, until Andrew finally dabbed a finger towards his bowl in a clear message. Abram only managed a few more bites of it before the sugar hit him and he pushed it away. Andrew rolled his eyes and transferred the remaining ice cream to above his own chocolate one, making sure to look him in the eye as he did it. Abram had to look away from it before he had a heart attack.

Nicky caught him looking around and managed to engage him in the conversation he and Aaron were having about a new movie that was coming out next week and they were excited for. Abram didn’t know anything about it, but that had never stopped Nicky before. Thankfully neither Andrew nor Kevin took much time finishing their ice cream and Andrew asked for the bill in no time. He pulled out a stack of bills from his pocket and clipped more than Abram thought the ice cream had really been. He figured he was paying for the cracker dust, as well. Andrew tapped him in the leg once for him to get up and didn’t wait for him as he left the restaurant. Abram watched Nicky, Aaron and Kevin each take a packet from under the pile and followed after them once they were ready to go.

Andrew was having a cigarette when they approached the car, but he tossed it to the ground when he saw them. The seating arrangement was the same as before when they got out of the parking lot. This time, thankfully, Kevin was quiet the entire ride, which Aaron pointed out as a blessing once Andrew had stopped the car in front of a club called Eden’s Twilight and they began to step out. Abram waited for Andrew to get out as well, but Andrew kept staring at the windshield until Nicky came back with an orange tag and handed it over. Andrew looked at Abram expectantly until Abram got out of the car, then attached it to the rearview mirror and drove into a parking lot at the end of the block.

At the front of the line Aaron was talking excitedly to the bouncers, and Abram stared at the sight, confused, until he remembered the cousins used to work the kitchens at a nightclub during high school. When Andrew returned he acknowledged the bouncers with a nod and led the way inside without batting an eye at the huge line behind him. Kevin motioned for him to follow, but didn’t stick around to see if he actually did.

Inside the club was more crowded than Abram felt totally comfortable with, but he figured the others didn’t care about it. Eden's Twilight was two-story, but the staircase that led to the second floor was blocked by a chain and a sign that said “Reserved”. On the dancefloor, people danced and chugged down their drinks frantically. When he was caught staring, Nicky said that, due to South Carolina’s blue laws, selling alcohol was prohibited on Sundays and so, when the clock turned midnight, the club would have to stop serving. It explained the desperation, but not the big crowd. Abram figured it only seemed that way because the second floor was occupied. 

Nicky, Aaron and Kevin went out in search of a vacant table while Andrew dragged Abram off by the front of his shirt to the back of the club. They had to step down from the dais and onto the dancefloor to do that, and Abram could feel Andrew get tenser at each brush-in with strangers. Andrew could barely withstand physical contact from his family members, so it made sense that he felt so uncomfortable surrounded by a bunch of drunken strangers in a nightclub. Abram took a step closer to him in a hesitant attempt to shield Andrew from the touches, but it meant his chest was flush to Andrew’s back. He figured it hadn’t helped much when Andrew whipped his head around to check who was behind him, shoulders stiff even when he recognized Abram’s auburn curls and blue eyes, but he didn’t immediately push him away. Andrew let go of the front of his shirt and only opened a small space between their bodies so they weren’t actually touching. Abram understood the trust put into it and tried twice as hard to shield Andrew’s body from the dancing bodies of the dance floor.

When they finally reached across the dance floor, Andrew elbowed his way to the front of the bar, now making a point of keeping Abram close to him so they wouldn’t get separated by the cluster of people trying to get their drinks before midnight. It didn’t take long for one of the bartenders to notice them, but she only shot Andrew a wide grin before continuing serving other clients. Andrew looked like he was expecting it. Just as Abram opened his mouth to ask, a curly-haired blonde showed up in front of them with pretty eyes and an empty tray.

“It’s been a while since you last showed your face around here. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever come again,” he said, and didn’t seem put off by Andrew’s blank face in return. He turned to Abram instead and then back to Andrew. “Who’s your date?”

“Nobody you should concern yourself with. He’ll probably be dead by the next time we come here again,” Andrew said, but it was more of an attempt to rile Abram up than an actual prediction on his part. Abram rolled his eyes and moved so he could lean on the counter where a spot had just opened up beside Andrew. He didn’t particularly feel like responding to Andrew’s jabs at the moment, so he turned his face away from the goalkeeper in a clear gesture that he wasn’t up for games.

He nodded to the bartender and said, “Abram.”

“I’m Roland,” the man said, then leaned down to grab a handful of shot glasses and began sorting them over the tray. “What’s your poison? I recommend something strong, since you guys only have another forty minutes to get drunk.”

Abram considered staying sober for the nights. Things could go very wrongly very quickly, but he felt drowned in his own guilt for deliberately putting the Foxes in danger and he felt like alcohol was a good help right now. He had never been a particularly difficult drunk and, if he decided to run his mouth, Andrew had already told him—after being questioned about driving to the house drunk—that he knew his limits and made sure to never cross them. Abram trusted him enough to know Andrew wouldn’t let things go too far. With that in mind, he blurted out his order to Roland and watched as the bartender took more glasses from under the counter and added them to the tray. Without another word, he began pouring his drinks even though Andrew hadn’t said anything. Abram wondered just how often the cousins came to this club if the bartender knew their order by heart.

By the time he was done, the crowd around the bar had dispersed a little and Abram managed to dislodge himself from Andrew’s side. He turned around to check where the others were, but just as Andrew made for the tray over the counter, Roland held on to it and sent him a meaningful look. Andrew stared straight through him for a moment before meeting his eyes. He nodded slowly and subtly, then tugged on the tray until Roland let go. Abram wondered what had just happened and wondered if he should be checking his drinks before downing them in one go like he was planning. He didn’t ask, though, and went before Andrew to clear a path on the dancefloor. He had to physically push a few drunken people, and check a handful of times if Andrew hadn’t gotten lost in the crowd, before they’d finally made it back to the dais.

He’d already spotted the others at a table to the left of the entrance and started towards them when Andrew pushed his way to beside him. When Nicky saw them he started waving enthusiastically, even after they had clearly already seen him. Abram wondered if it was a good idea to let Nicky anywhere near alcohol, but he kept it to himself as he pulled out a stool from beside Kevin and cleared a space in the table for the tray.

The cracker dust reappeared before anyone took any of the shots. Andrew took the spare one he’d shoved in his coat and put it in front of Abram in a clear invitation, but Abram pushed it back without hesitance. Andrew shrugged, pocketed it, and ripped his own open. The others mimicked the gesture then each reached for a shot. Shoving down his clear disappointment, Abram took the Lemon Drop he’d ordered and waited as Nicky counted them off. On three, he downed his shot in one go then slammed down the empty glass back on the table. It had been a while since he’d last let himself indulge in heavy alcohol since he tried to keep an eye open during his night outs with the upperclassmen, so the vodka stung down his throat the way it used to happen when he’d first started drinking in Evermore. Abram reminded himself to drink less than usual since his tolerance had probably been knocked down, as well.

He had overindulged during his time as a student at Edgar Allan, but the cousins and Kevin downed their drinks in quick succession in a way that rivaled even the Ravens’ dorm parties where the objective was drink to forget. Kevin had always had a particular talent for knocking back shots like water, but Aaron and Nicky weren’t too far behind him. Andrew had only picked out three of the shots, clearly without the intent to get so trashed so soon, and Abram was happy to accompany him. He’d finished his second drink by the time Nicky was whining about another round now that it was only twenty minutes until midnight, and was surprised to see Andrew indulge him without a set dose of sarcasm. This time when he got up he took Kevin with him and pierced Abram with a look that clearly said “Stay.”

Kevin came back alone not too long after with a tray no less full than the one before and distributed the drinks between the four of them. When Abram inquired him about Andrew, Kevin shrugged and said he’d stayed to talk to Roland. Abram wondered if it had anything to do with the look they’d shared when Andrew brought the first round and concluded it wasn’t his place to wonder. This time the alcohol was already taking its effect on him and he was less conservative with his drinking. He knocked back the three shots Kevin had line up in front of him and watched as Nicky attempted to get out of the stool at the same time he dragged Aaron along with him.

“Let’s go dancing,” he said, then yawned, then continued to whine when no one immediately moved. Finally he managed to drag an intoxicated Aaron to the dance floor. Abram watched in amusement as they stumbled through the crowd and started on a mess of limbs that barely had the same rhythm as the music. Kevin mumbled something beside him, but when Abram turned to look he didn’t think it was anything coherent enough to be important. Kevin stared at the tray with Andrew’s remaining drinks, shrugged, and downed them as well. It was a miracle that he was still sitting straight.

Andrew came back thirty minutes later with another round of drinks when the clocks rang ten minutes until midnight, Aaron and Nicky in tow when they saw him carrying a tray. This time there weren’t as many drinks and Abram only took one to participate in Nicky’s ridiculous speech about having fun with the people that mattered. Nicky only managed to get a few words out before Andrew slapped a hand over his mouth and threated him with something Abram couldn’t hear. It was efficient, and Nicky turned his back on his cousin before eyeing the dance floor again.

“Dance with me, handsome. I’m feeling so lonely,” he slurred.

Abram doubted it. “I thought you had Erik for that.”

“I do, but he’s _all the way_ in Germany and Kevin’s obviously not willing to fulfill his part in cheering me up. Since Aaron’s too straight to be pushed, I’m moving on to you.”

“I don’t need a push either, thanks. I don’t swing,” Abram said. When the conversation didn’t immediately disappear from his mind, he took one of Andrew’s drinks and downed it for good measure.

It would have worked, but Nicky obviously didn’t understand when someone was trying to end a conversation. He said, in what Abram could only assume was meant to be a seductive tone, “You’ll swing when I get my way with you. You’ll see.”

“Wow, Nicky, that’s nice,” Andrew said, in the same bored tone as ever, but his eyes were intent and his meaning was clear.

Nicky paled and looked at Andrew with something akin to horror. Aaron and Kevin were looking around like they preferred not to be there for this conversation, but with Nicky and Andrew were blocking them and there was nowhere else to go. Nicky raised his hand like he was going to touch Andrew’s wrist, but he stopped himself before he could.

Abram remembered hearing from Riko that Renee, Kevin and Wymack had been the ones to find Andrew in that warehouse where his father’s men had kept him, but he found it impossible that the other Foxes didn’t know any details about what had happened in there. Judging from Nicky’s face they all tried not to think about it. Abram didn’t judge them for it, but he couldn’t help the anger that surged up at how careless Andrew’s family was with making these kinds of jokes. He put his hands between his thighs in an attempt to keep himself in check. Andrew’s eyes followed the motion, but he didn’t say anything and looked back at Nicky, who was still trying to get his tongue back.

“Go out and dance, Nicky,” Andrew said, looking a lot more interested in his drinks than in his cousin’s failed attempts at apologizing. Nicky took the opportunity presented and nearly ran all the way down to the dance floor. Kevin and Aaron followed, but not before each trading a glance with Andrew. Abram thought the look Andrew gave back was more of a warning than anything.

He wondered if Andrew wanted him gone as well, but he figured Andrew would have told him to leave if he did. Instead, Abram turned on his seat so he was looking straight to Andrew. The clock had already banged midnight by now, but there was still an untouched shot on the table in front of him. Andrew looked at it curiously before knocking it down. He must have drunken at least six by now, but he looked the same way as always. Abram figured this was what Andrew had meant about knowing his limits.

It suddenly came to Abram that he still had a truth to squeeze out of Andrew because of their honesty game from months ago in Charlottesville. He wondered if it counted if he was taking advantage of Andrew’s drunken state, but considering that he was even more intoxicated, it didn’t really mattered. Abram had meant to keep the question until a key moment, but he was getting tired of playing games and he didn’t think he had much time before Lola stopped her threats and actually came to take him. He scavenged his mind for something only Andrew could answer him and came up with a good enough question.

He leaned a little closer so he wouldn’t have to shout and said, “I’m collecting my truth. Right now.”

Andrew raised a curious eyebrow and turned on his stool so they could look at each other eye to eye. When Abram remained silent, he made a gesture for him to go on.

“Why did you take the deal with me in the first place?”

“This again?” Andrew leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He looked the epitome of bored, but by now Abram knew it meant he probably wasn’t as collected as he wanted everyone to think he was. He tipped his head to the side like he was searching for an answer even though it was obvious he already had one on his tongue. “After you went public with your relationship and Kevin freaked out, I demanded he fill me up about what happened inside the Nest when someone refused Riko’s advances. He said he wouldn’t know because Riko had never made a move on anyone that wasn’t you. When he explained your mother was dead and you didn’t have your father’s protection anymore, I put two and two together. This may come as a shock, but it reminded me a lot of my own story. The difference is I managed to make a difference this time around.”

The answer took some time to process, especially in Abram’s current inebriated state of mind. He remembered the investigator’s notes on Andrew’s file about how he had kept quiet about his foster brother’s advances on him because he wanted to stay with the only foster mother he’d ever had who didn’t treat him like he was nothing. It was different in some ways from what Abram had experienced, but staying with Riko meant protecting himself and his friends the same way living with the foster brother meant a brighter future for Andrew and a family that loved him. Abram looked at Andrew with knowing eyes but quickly stopped himself when he noticed what he was doing. Pity did no one any favors and he wasn’t about to start handing it out to someone who didn’t need it.

Andrew looked at him curiously until it became obvious that Abram had already made sense of his words. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time then went back to leaning against the back of his stool. “Why are you being nice to the Foxes?”

Abram blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“When Kevin first came here to be an assistant coach, he treated this team like they were so inferior to him they barely deserved the breath he drew in to shout orders at them. He still thinks that, but he’s more controlled now that he gave me his back. You’re just as arrogant as any other Raven on court, but you’re being awfully quiet about us when we’re not playing. I don’t trust you when you keep your opinions to yourself.”

Abram thought it was a fair distrust giving his track record. He considered his answer. Mostly he hadn’t said anything because he was more worried with keeping himself and the people who’d taken him in alive, but he was also guilty enough that he didn’t want to bring them any more grief. Besides, he still didn’t know how to act with a team that clearly saw each other as equals to some point. He tried to find a way to convey that to Andrew that wouldn’t lead to him accidentally telling him about Lola’s recent threats and failed. He didn’t want to lie, or that would put this entire game to pieces, so he settled on a half-truth.

“You learn with the Ravens that you don’t have a voice until you’re the star of the team. I spent eight years being hidden away from the eye of the media and playing in private practices under Tetsuji’s scrutiny while Kevin was the money-maker for the Moriyamas and the Ravens. We’re different ranks. It’s hard not to revert back to it when we’re together.”

Andrew nodded like he understood, but it was obvious that he didn’t. He looked like he wanted to say something to refute what Abram had just explained, but he crossed his arms over the table and propped his head on his elbows. He said, “Ask me something else so I don’t owe you another truth like before.”

It barely seemed fair that Andrew wanted to pick the moment Abram asked him for his truth, but Abram indulged him anyway. He was about to make his question when Andrew’s phone lit up from the pocket of his pants. Andrew rejected it without even checking who was calling. Less than ten seconds later the phone was ringing again. This time Andrew read the contact name and frowned.

“Coach?” He asked, and listened while Wymack shouted a string of words Abram couldn’t identify. Andrew sat up straight and looked at Abram with intense eyes. “Are you sure?”

Abram didn’t know what he was talking about, but it brought enough emotion to Andrew’s face that he took it as important. He shot up from his seat and went to find the others on the dance floor. Thankfully Kevin was just tall enough that it was easy to spot him, and when Abram reached them he didn’t do anything but tug each of them by the wrist before making his way back to the dais.

“Abram? What’s going on?” Nicky asked worriedly behind him. Abram didn’t answer, but he was pleased to see that they were all following.

When they got back to the table Andrew was already standing up and his phone was nowhere in sight. He saw that Abram had already gathered the other three and bypassed them in direction of the exit. His face was a mask of apathy that worried Abram even more than the intensity from before, but he remained quiet as the four of them followed Andrew into the car and they left the parking lot.

This time Andrew didn’t make a point of following traffic laws on their way to the house. Thankfully the three in the backseat had remained silent the entire car ride, maybe sensing that something important enough had happened to put Andrew into such a bad mood, and Nicky only spoke up once they had been parked in front of a two-story house for about five minutes.

“Andrew?”

Andrew didn’t take his hands away from the wheel, but he said, “Seth’s dead.”

It took Abram a moment to remember who Seth was. He was the only one of the Foxes who had downright refused to participate in their babysitting schedule from when Abram had been bedridden at Abby’s and a mediocre striker who’d constantly shouted jabs at him during practice. Abram didn’t particularly cared about it, but it was obvious that he was the only one who felt that way. There was a moment of complete silence inside the car before Nicky and Aaron both began on a frantic shouting contest.

“No way,” Aaron said. “What the fuck happened? He’s been clean since he and Allison last got together.”

“He didn’t OD. Allison went to the bathroom and two men approached him and started a fight. The bar threw him out, but the men followed. Allison found him in a ditch twenty minutes later.”

“Jesus,” Nicky said. He leant forward and rested his head on the seat behind Abram. “Shit, shit.”

Abram was taken aback by how shaken Nicky and Aaron seemed. When he turned around to check on them, he saw that Kevin was staring straight at him with a pensive expression. It took him a minute to understand it. He and Kevin had grown up surrounded by death and they knew how these things worked. There was no way that it was a coincidence Seth had showed up dead not two weeks after Abram had run away from the Nest and the Moriyamas. Because of the scandal in California he couldn’t be hit directly so soon, but there were other ways to get to him and they were using them.

Abram turned in his seat and stared through the windshield. “The fight was staged.”

“Yes,” Andrew said, taking two cigarettes from his pocket and lighting them. He passed on to Abram, who took it easily and breathed in the smoke like it was going to calm him down at all. “Wymack said the police thinks they used something like a cleaver.”

Abram blanched. His father was known as the Butcher of Baltimore for a reason. Though it had been years since he’d last actually used it during a job, it didn’t surprise him that he’d brought his favorite weapon back as a way to deliver a message. Nathan wanted Abram to know who killed his teammate and just how close he could get if he wanted.

Hastily, Abram turned in his seat so he could take his burner phone out of his pocket. Sure enough, there was a new message from when he checked it. Abram felt like he was going to be sick. Though he didn’t particularly care about Seth, knowing that the Moriyamas would actually target the people around him turned his guilt into a fire inside his stomach. He gripped the sides of his head in a failed attempt at calming himself down from a panic attack. It wasn’t working, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Stop it,” Andrew said, like it was that simple. He put a hand on the back of Abram’s neck like he had done at Evermore and brought Abram’s hand to his own chest.

It was just enough for Abram to be able to copy his breathing. While Abram was still coming down from the near-panic attack, Andrew reached over him to grab the phone from his hand. Abram let him, too focused on keeping himself from getting sick inside Andrew’s car. By the time he remembered Lola’s texts it was already too late.

Andrew’s hands were shaking with anger. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

“What’s happening?” Nicky asked from the backseat. “Abram? Are you okay?”

“He’s obviously not okay, Nicky. He’s fucking retarded, is what he is,” Andrew said, then turned his attention back to the front. “You should have told me about this the minute you got the first message. Do you have any fucking idea what—” He punched the wheel of the Lexus and the horn echoed around the quiet neighborhood.

“What texts?” Aaron said. “Who’s been texting you?”

“His father’s people, I presume. Whoever Lola is, she has a creativity for threats that could only mean she works for the mob. It’s quite impressive.”

Kevin’s intake of breath from the back was sharp enough that Abram could hear it even over his throbbing ears. It sent Abram into a fit of hysterics. Kevin had met with Lola only a handful of times and wasn’t aware of one-tenth of the things she was capable of. He wondered what Kevin’s reaction would be if he heard Abram had been having lessons with her during his time at Evermore. It was possible that he’d be happy for having someone else capable of defending him. The thought made him laugh even harder.

“Stop it,” Andrew said again. This time Abram managed to oblige.

Once the car was silent again apart from Abram’s heavy breathing and whiny noises coming out of Nicky’s lips, Andrew got out of the car. The three in the back remained sitting, looking like they hadn’t even noticed someone had moved. Abram looked at each of their faces then slid out from his shotgun seat as well. His leg was killing him despite the extra space staying at the front provided him, so by the time he reached the front door Andrew had already unlocked it.

Abram thought Andrew might ignore him until his anger went away, but Andrew turned around to look him in the eye. “He’s dead because of you. If you’d told me about the texts I wouldn’t have allowed them out of the Tower. But then again, I doubt it’s the first time you got someone killed. Everything’s worth it if you’re the one alive at the end, right?” He said, but it didn’t look like he was actively judging Abram for it. It was more like stating a fact.

Andrew sucked on his cigarette and pointed at Abram’s own that was nearly burning out. Abram tossed it to the grass behind him without looking, then reached over for Andrew’s and tossed it aside, too. Andrew let him do it without further protests.

“I’m done gambling with their lives. They— _you_ —took me in and looked after me just because of a promise you didn’t have to keep. You deserve better.”

“That’s a sweet sentiment, but one that you don’t really mean. I meant it when I called you a rabbit. You say pretty things but you’d do whatever it takes to stay alive when it comes to it. For now, I’m done talking to you,” Andrew said. He reached inside the door and turned on the lights. “I’ll figure something out tomorrow.”

Andrew had one hand extended for Abram to go in front of him, but when Abram did he leaned on the doorstep to watch over his family. Abram stared at him for a moment before settling himself in one of the couches. He didn’t know if this house had a spare bed for him, but he’d slept in worse places before. Forcing himself to close his eyes was more difficult than he was expecting. The image of Seth’s body abandoned in a ditch bothered him more than he thought it would.

Abram didn’t think he had many options now. He could either stay with the Foxes and put them in constant danger until his father finally managed to snatch him away from the eyes of the police and the NCAA or he could take what little money he had and get as far away as possible from South Carolina. Though he didn’t believe his teammates were in imminent danger so soon after a bold move on his father’s part, it was inevitable that something else would happen eventually. Besides, if the Butcher didn’t put an end to it Abram wouldn’t be surprise if the Moriyamas themselves intervened in what could quickly become a problem to them.

The best chance the Foxes had was Abram going away, but he found that telling himself to do it was too hard not only because it meant his most likely death, but also because he didn’t want to part from Andrew and Kevin. Though his relationship with Kevin was always filled with jealousy and resentment, having him nearby put a rest to Abram’s heart that he hadn’t even realized needed appeasing. Kevin was, despite everything Abram had ever said, the closest thing he had to an older brother. It would be hard to let him go a second time. The thought of leaving Andrew was just as hard to swallow. Quickly and unexpectedly, Andrew had become the person Abram trusted the most in this earth, even more than Jean. It was nice having someone who understood him to some degree for a change.

He opened his eyes and looked at where Andrew was standing with a new cigarette in hand. It was hard pointing out when exactly he had come to depend so much on Andrew’s company rather than the relative safety he represented. Abram found that when he looked at Andrew there was a word at the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t recognized yet burned him all the same. It went against everything he’d learned from his mother, his father and his tutors.

Feeling eyes on him, Andrew turned from the doorstep and put the hand that was holding the cigarette down. He didn’t blink when he saw Abram was looking at him, drunken and less inclined to put a mask over his face. Maybe it was all the alcohol in Abram’s system, but he felt, for a moment, that the same word on his lips reflected in Andrew’s eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prepare urselves........neil is coming
> 
> i live off of ur comments :) feed me


	17. 10-01-14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe i posted this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> but honestly, this took this long because my first round of uni entrance exams extend from this week to the next, and i stopped myself from writing ever since i posted last chapter because i want medicine and im competing against 5 million students for good grades. it's the interlude between subjects now tho and im not studying at ALL between them so u got like a day of me focusing back on this. i'll have to keep that same rythm until second round tho :/  
> ANYWAY i hope u like this. heading towards the end!!!

The Foxes didn’t get together in a room until five days after the incident. Abram tried not to hold it against them, since he knew, realistically, that people reacted differently to something as shocking as the murder of one of their teammates, but mourning had never been present in his life, and he found it more annoying than beneficial to the process of letting go. Andrew smacked him on the head when he’d tried to voice his opinion when they were first back at Palmetto, but Abram still didn’t find any fault behind the reasoning. Wymack sent him to the court with Kevin and Andrew before he could make permanent damage to the team. The bitterness of not being allowed to play was sour on his tongue, but discussing plays and countermoves with Kevin appeased him enough during the days of lull. 

Abram hadn’t told the upperclassmen yet that he’d been receiving threats for weeks now, but he didn’t think they needed to hear it. After the police confirmed it had been a cleaver to kill Seth, there was no doubt about who had been the one to murder him. Guilt placing was already happening whether Abram admitted to it or not; Andrew had said it himself that he had been the one to get Seth killed. Knowing this meant Abram didn’t have what it took to look at the upperclassmen in the eye. He didn’t know them, but respect had been the one thing he’d managed to keep in all his years in the Nest. Denying them some now would have been inhumane. 

Things weren’t better with the Monsters, either. Kevin was a drunken mess the entire time he wasn’t in the court and Aaron and Nicky were holed up in their rooms trying to process. Abram had hoped Andrew would be the only one unaffected by this, but Andrew knew too much to stay still while the Foxes mourned. He had promises to keep and limited resources to fight with. More than once, Abram had followed him up to the roof and the two of them saw the sundown and sunrise together, Andrew thinking and Abram happy to have some company that wasn’t actively judging him. Though he didn’t like the idea of Andrew trying to find them, plural, a way out, when he knew there wasn’t one where they’d all get out alive, Abram found that their time together was the only moment he could clear his head of other problems and focus on the future ahead and all of its possibilities. 

Abram was still trying to figure out of a plan to escape his owners’ grasp alive. He’d decided to leave the moment he stepped foot in Palmetto again after Seth’s death, but he had less money than he’d anticipated and his getaway documents were all in his mother’s house in Charlottesville. He thought of finding himself a job to get enough to order some more, but there were only waiting gigs that either wouldn’t get him the amount he needed or would require him to work for too long in a day, and his leg hadn’t healed what it took to have him serving tables for hours on end. His next best deal was stealing, but even after he’d been taught how to do it his entire life, Abram discovered that the mere thought of it left him nauseated. There were too many risks, even if he didn’t already associate stealing with his mother slaughtered by the side of the road while his unblinking father reached out to what was his. The thought of getting caught and studied by the police was terrifying on its own; knowing that they might find a link to the Moriyamas was even more mortifying. It left Abram out of options other than staying in Palmetto until his puny salary as a coach assistant saved him enough. He felt helpless at knowing that he had to continue putting the Foxes’ lives at risk even after he had already ruined everything for them. 

Andrew listened to him complain only once when they were up at the rooftop, but even then he’d interrupted halfway through. He kept insisting that he was taking care of it and Abram shouldn’t worry his pretty little head while he healed, but the corners of his mouth were turned down and he had a crease between the brows that hadn’t been there a month before. It only served to further Abram’s guilt, but every time it was brought up, Andrew closed himself off and sent Abram out of his sight before he could do something he’d most likely regret. Abram thought it sounded a whole lot like fondness. 

When they got the memo from Wymack to come down to the court now that Allison was finally ready to see other people, Abram had been on the verge of asking Andrew why he didn’t just throw him off the building already. He knew Andrew had said at the club that he saw it as an opportunity to right the wrongs done to himself during his childhood, but it was hard to swallow that Andrew was doing this out of the kindness of his heart. More than once, Abram wondered whether all of this had been from Kevin’s wish to have him with him out of Evermore, but every time they saw each other, Kevin found a way to distance himself and pretend they hadn’t known each other before Palmetto. It was as frustrating as it sounded, and Abram felt sour over not getting his answers; he still had one truth left in their game. 

Standing at the break room at the Foxhole Court, his mood positively deepened. Most of the upperclassmen were already there, Allison included, only missing Dan, who Abram figured was doing captain business with Wymack wherever they were. He tried not to look directly in Allison’s direction, knowing just how furious she probably was with him, but from the corner of his eyes Abram saw that she was still crying, as she had been for the past five days. He tried to remember Andrew’s words about people’s normal reactions to death, but found himself annoyed by the crying already. He would never understand such deep felt grief, but he sat facing away from her anyway, in a futile attempt at respecting her wishes of, he figured, never seeing his face again. 

Andrew sat next to him on the couch and pointedly stared into his eyes when he didn’t turn around. He had a frown at the corners of his mouth that gave away his irritation at something Abram had done, but it had become such a common expression that Abram had learned to ignore it. He stared back into Andrew’s eyes instead, daring him to say something. Andrew merely shook his head and looked away to the door adjacent to this room where they could hear Wymack’s and Abby’s voices. 

Abram wouldn’t say anything unless directly spoken to, so he turned his gaze to the ground. He wondered how the Foxes would take it when he told them he couldn’t leave immediately. Even if he did have the money, his bad leg and often constricted lungs kept him from going much further than the next block, much less cross the city to find illegal documents. It would take him a while to heal properly, and even then he might always feel the ribs against his lungs every time he breathed too deeply. Riko had made a good job hurting him; he’d remembered where his still healing injuries were and exploited them to the maximum. Thankfully he hadn’t managed to break the ribs with his kicks, but the one bone that had already been badly placed got crooked enough to cause pain, though not enough for him to undergo surgery—not that he ever would have anyway. It was a miracle Abby had managed to patch him up in a well enough manner to let him heal so quickly, but then again, Riko hadn’t broken that many things. She still insisted he continue using his crutches until the leg that got trapped in the steps of the staircase had rightened itself up, but he would live without them. Abram had been living through injuries his entire life; they only mattered to him as long as they prevented him from playing, and, as it appeared, these ones probably wouldn’t. 

It would be a while until he managed to get into the court again. Abram felt bitter every time he heard it or spoke it, but he was well-aware that Riko had intended for him to never play again. Abby had said he was lucky. Maybe he was, but Abram refused to think it of himself after so much misfortunate had happened in his life. More often than not, he found himself in self-pity, though he always had Andrew to snag him out of it. Abram smiled. 

“Stop,” Andrew said, true to his word of never letting Abram’s mind wander too high. 

Abram’s lips parted in an instigating grin. He said in a lazy tone, “Stop what?” 

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m not your answer, Abram. How many times do I have to say it until it reaches that dense brain of yours?” 

“Until I’m gone,” Abram said, with a sharp smile. He didn’t need to check if Andrew had rolled his eyes. 

He felt like the goalkeeper wanted to continue their conversation, but the door to the storage room opened and out of it came a grim-looking Wymack and a steel-faced Abby. Behind them, Dan had a slightly better expression and immediate took her place at the upperclassmen’s couch. She put an arm around Allison’s shoulders and Abram only remembered to avert his eyes when the two of them looked straight at him. It felt almost impossible not to be always looking at them; the mood in the room was orbiting around Allison’s grief, as did the people. Andrew seemed to be the only one unaffected by it, but Abram didn’t buy it for a second. He still remembered the wildness in his eyes on the night that Seth had died. Andrew’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking until after his third cigarette, long after the rest of his family had dragged itself into the house and their bedrooms and only Abram was left in the living room. He couldn’t understand Andrew’s fixation on shaping himself as the emotionless monster, but he figured he wasn’t going to be the one to unmask him to the Foxes. 

Wymack stopped in front of the couches with a set of crossed arms and unmoving eyes. He wasn’t looking directly at any of his players, but Abram didn’t blame him for it; coaches had always had the job to appear unshakeable in front of their teams, no matter what had happened or how hard it was for them. If anything, his posture earned him some respect. Abram had grown up with the notion that being strong came from being cold-hearted, but Wymack was standing there as a walking contradiction to that doctrine. He sat back on the couch and looked into the coach’s eyes for the second he allowed it, now with a newfound admiration. 

“Listen here, kiddos. I know after what happened you are expecting me to give out a heartfelt speech about how you should keep going despite what you’re all going through, but I don’t think either you or Seth would appreciate the coddling. Us Foxes have never been about being mistreated; we’ve always preferred to avenge rather than to be taken down. It sucks that you gotta move forward because it’s the middle of the season, but it is what it is, and my job is to keep you inside the court whether you’re done mourning or not.” 

Wymack sighed. He’d recently shaved his hair instead of letting himself get progressively bald, but he still wasn’t used to it, so he made an aborted motion to pass his fingers through his hair. It was a clear gesture of how over the place he felt, and seeing the one person Abram had always seen as unshakable in such a state left him disconcerted. He’d been studying the Foxes’ roster for years; Seth had been one of the few players Wymack chose for his first lineup at Palmetto, and the only senior who hadn’t given up on him yet. Now he’d been taken away from Wymack, and it meant more on a metaphorical level than Abram could ever understand. 

After years, he still didn’t know for sure why Wymack was so committed to giving out second, third and fourth chances to society rejects. He and the Ravens had mostly believed it was for publicity, but he hadn’t ever gotten much recognition from it and had never been able to take his Foxes far enough in the championships to gather a legion of fans. Now, as he looked into the man’s eyes, Abram realized for the first time that Wymack didn’t do it for any other reason than to try to give out opportunities to those who had never had it. It was as stupid as it sounded, mostly because the majority of the time the Foxes couldn’t even function as a team, but Abram found himself grateful that someone was willing to help him and people alike. It was such a difference from the Moriyama mentality that for a moment he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Thankfully, no one paid attention to him. Wymack looked past the couch he was on and straight at where Allison was curled up with Dan and Renee. The look on his face changed for a moment before he went back to staring over their heads and puffing out his chest. 

“Look, we all know exactly what happened, and who was behind it. It was terrible and gory and they wanted to scare us into hiding,” he said, crossing his arms once again. “That’s not going to happen. Riko says we don’t have what it takes and we will prove him wrong. Seth would hate us for cowering when it meant giving them exactly what they want. Let’s show them what the Foxes are really about.” 

It was a moving speech, but there were too many holes in it and everyone inside knew it. Allison barely looked like she had heard a single word he said, but by the way her fingers were shaking as they formed into fists showed otherwise. Abram couldn’t let them get their hopes up without laying out their situation for them. It was a flavor of cruelty that hit too close to home and left bitterness on his tongue. 

He straightened his back on the couch, but Andrew caught his wrist before he could say the first word. It was clear he wanted Abram to keep his mouth shut, especially after a week of insensitivity over his team’s mourning, but for once Abram couldn’t attend to his whims. Abram pulled his arm from Andrew’s grip and called, “Coach.” 

The Foxes turned to look at him, and he was surprised to see Allison had followed the movement. He nearly lost his courage at the agony in her eyes, but remembered he was sparing them from even more disappointment. “You have eight players in your roster. The NCAA could barely stand your nine; they won’t let you play with a missing substitute. Kevin might be good, but he’s still only one person. You either find a striker in the next twenty-four hours or you’re out of the championships.” 

Wymack nodded. “We have support from Belmont and Cali to keep the board calm while I solve this situation. I’m going around campus this week to scout for a striker good enough to play second time. It’s not ideal, but Kevin and Dan can play offense to even things out.” 

“Sounds like a bunch of ‘what ifs’,” Abram said. “Put me in your roster. I know how to play with Kevin. You want to beat down Riko, this is a good way to do it.” 

“I said no, Wesninski,” Wymack snarled. “This is not the Nest. I don’t care if I have to keep you off the court for another year, I won’t sacrifice my players for the game. There’s enough of that going around as it is.” 

That sounded like a jab, but Abram figured it was more his anxiousness talking than Wymack actually approaching the subject no one had dare to approach. Still, he looked around the room to see if anyone else had caught that and was surprised that the team’s attention, saved for Andrew who was looking every bit as disinterested as always, was focused completely on Wymack. Dan, surprisingly, was very nearly grinning as she clutched her boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“Coach?” She said, and it soon became clear they had something planned, because Wymack nodded and stepped down so she could take the lead of the gathering. He leaned down to pick up a bag from behind the upperclassmen’s couch and looked encouragingly to his captain. 

Dan took a deep breath and gave Allison a meaningful look before standing up. Finally, for the first time today, she looked up at where the cousins were sitting and only stopped when she met Abram’s icy blue eyes. Her expression sparkled up almost immediately, which led to a guilty crisis that nearly knocked him down. Oblivious to it, Dan began. 

“Alright, Abram, we know you’re still not technically on the team yet, but we wanted to give you something to feel welcome after all the shit you had to go through with the Ravens,” she said, softly. “Everyone contributed since the school won’t pay for it because you’re ‘ _not a teammate_ ’ or something. We know we’re not what you expected for your sophomore year, but we hope you’ll enjoy wearing this anyway.” 

From the corner of his eye, Abram saw Wymack starting to move in his direction and tensed up. He reached for the white bag that was handed to him and looked suspiciously at Andrew for a moment before deciding he wouldn’t have collaborated if it was something he knew he wouldn’t like. Abram reached down to the bottom of the bag and his eyes immediately widened at the feeling of familiar soft fabric of an Exy uniform, not quite believing they would truly considering him one of their own even after everything that had happened. 

The shirt was bright Fox orange when he took it out and it read 10 in the front, for which Abram was grateful. Kevin might have wanted to keep his number from the Ravens, but he was looking to distance himself from Riko as much as he possibly could. Abram wondered if that was the reason that they chose it differently, and didn’t put it past them when he remembered this was a team of misfits who had lived through traumatic situations as much as he did. It was a wake up call on what the Foxes really were outside of Exy; Abram marveled whether this feeling of being understood was what led Kevin to stay with the Foxes even after his hand was healed. He looked up from the shirt to see the entire team looking at him, and at last let himself meet Allison’s gaze from across the room. 

She smiled sadly through her tears. “Look in the back.” 

Abram did, and nearly choked at seeing his new name there rather than the one his father had given him. He almost couldn’t believe that someone would accommodate him in such a state, after all the shitty things he had done in his life. “Thank you,” he said, because he couldn’t say anything else. 

“I made sure to cut your father’s name, too,” Allison said, and elaborated when Abram looked at her like she had grown a second head, “Your family name. Abram W. Andrew said you’d appreciate it.” 

At hearing the name, Abram’s head nearly whipped around as he turned to look at the man sitting beside him. Andrew still had the same serene expression, but his eyes were intense on Abram’s as he assessed his reaction to a type of kindness that he wasn’t used to getting. Abram understood his concern, but he was too busy processing his guilt to respond to the gesture. He said, slowly, “But Seth’s dead because of me.” 

Allison sobered up on the couch in front of him. “It was not your fault.” 

“It was, though,” Abram urged, frustrated. “If I hadn’t ignored all the threats we might have stopped this from happening.” 

She shook her head. “Andrew already told me about your father’s texts and that you think you could have stopped it, but you couldn’t have, Abram,” Allison said. “They were coming for us whether we left campus or not. We knew this was a possibility the moment we took your half-dead body out of SoCal. If we hadn’t left campus your dad would have found a way to get to Seth in here. And if not—you did not kill Seth. You did not wield your dad’s cleaver. That is  _all_ on him, Abram.”

Abram felt himself nodding, but he couldn’t completely process the situation. This was a type of kindness he only ever heard about in movies, and that even his mother hadn’t given him when he was feeling the most down. Around him, the Foxes continued speaking, but it was all white noise. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Allison’s face, looking at him like she was two seconds away from falling apart but like she truly believed every word she’d said. Slowly, Abram let himself smile slightly, despite all his instincts raging at him to not get attached, and saw Allison smile back. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, even if he didn’t completely agreed to her reasoning.

They only parted looks when the Foxes around them started to get up. Abram looked around, confused, as the team scurried to the locker rooms and Wymack went back to his office, probably to figure out the roster’s situation. Abram stared up at Andrew, who was standing in front of him, now truly bored with his lack of reaction.

“Where are we going?”

“Abby said you’re cleared for some light practice today. No checks, no rough moves from the backliners and no crazy shots from you strikers. If your leg hurts more than it usually does when you walk around, or if you have trouble breathing, you are to immediately stop playing and find her in her office,” Andrew listed, mechanically. “Basically she just said it’s to keep your junkie heart satiated after so many weeks off the court.”

 Abram nodded, marveled that he would get to play again. He didn’t think he’d felt so welcome in forever, and though he still didn’t know how to react to the Foxes’ kindness, he was learning that they didn’t immediately demand something back from him. He let Andrew help him up and the two of them walked together to the locker room where the others were already mostly in gear. Andrew bypassed them unblinkingly and went to a particularly tiny room adjacent to it. Thanks to the twins’ small stature, there was spare gear laying around that would fit him, though a little small. Abram didn’t dare complain lest they decided not to let him play at all.

Because of his still-healing ribs he had a hard time being fast with taking off or pulling on clothes, so Andrew helped him put on his gear after five minutes of making faces when he stretched too much to do it himself. When they got out of the room, the Foxes were already warming up on the court, so Abram left Andrew to dress up with his preferred privacy. After years frequenting locker rooms full of naked jocks, Andrew had learned not to bother exposing himself, but Abram had been getting better at interpreting his minimal facial expressions, and was aware of his discomfort. He didn’t let himself think of Andrew’s reasons.

The court’s door was still open since the players were only stretching and running around, so Abram walked right in and felt his chest puff out. Being on the court brought out a feeling of righteousness he had never felt anywhere else in his life but that was surprisingly similar to what he’d just been feeling when they’d given him his Palmetto jersey. Kevin nodded at him when Abram caught up with him in a lap around the perimeter but didn’t say anything else until Andrew had walked inside. Dan, who had taken Wymack’s place since he couldn’t supervision the game, locked the door from the outside and told them to get to their positions.

Playing Exy with a team he wasn’t used to and after so much time spent healing on top of a bed was more disconcerting than Abram had thought it would be. He found that with his achy leg he wasn’t as fast as he used to be, but thankfully he had more skill and precision from years of Raven drills to overpower the Foxes’ backliners. The other team was playing with one extra player, since Dan wasn’t around, but Kevin and Abram still worked in synch when they had to. At one point, after minutes of missing shots because they couldn’t find each other on the court, Kevin tossed the ball to the wall and it ricocheted straight into Abram’s net. Out of surprise, Abram didn’t manage to hold onto to it before Aaron came barreling for his racket, but it was the kick start to their harmony and they didn’t miss any more passes after that.

This wasn’t the first time Abram had played against Andrew on the court, but it was the first time he was doing it the way he liked it whether the way Riko wanted him to play. He used the walls to direct the ball where he wanted it and ran as fast as his injuries would let him to get it back. He made more shots than Kevin at the goal, but only a few of them made it to the net. It was frustrating to him as a player, but let his face with a flush from the adrenaline high. Andrew was, when he wanted to be, a magnificent goalie. Sober and challenged, he was even more effective at blocking Raven-level distraction techniques, balls shot with years of precision drills, and faux moves that let the other strikers try their luck.

At the end of the game it wasn’t surprise that his team had won, since it had Kevin, himself and Matt on their favor, but the margin was kept low thanks to Andrew’s gold-worthy blocks. Dan tapped on the court’s walls to get their attention when the game ended, since Abby had also said—and this Andrew had failed to mention—that Abram was only allowed to play first time. He pondered whether arguing against it was worth it, but letting him play today had already been a stretch on her part. Besides, he had learned that she rewarded his patience with small allowances, such as abandoning his crutches a few days early and playing in this toned down practice.

Andrew was waiting for him when he got out of the shower and walked out of the room as soon as he saw him. Abram rolled his eyes and followed to where the Lexus was parked. All the other Foxes had already left, courtesy to him taking especially long in the shower to make sure none of his injuries had worsened, and the cousins and Kevin were nowhere to be seen. Andrew still didn’t offer any explanations as they drove off of the parking lot and away from Palmetto.

Abram was starting to think maybe Andrew was trying to run off with him when they made the familiar turn to Columbia. He had to clutch the seat under him at Andrew’s particularly angry driving—sobriety hadn’t toned it down at all—and only relaxed again when they stopped in front of the mall. He looked at Andrew disbelievingly and waited for him to make some sort of pronunciation.

“Coach said he’s sick of seeing you wearing our shirts over and over again,” he said in lieu of an explanation.

“You’re taking me shopping,” Abram said, slowly. “All my money’s back at the Nest.”

Andrew produced an orange card out of his jeans’ pocket with Palmetto’s name on it like it explained anything. The Ravens didn’t ever buy anything on their own, in this particular area; they had all their clothes picked out for them and not a big range of options to choose from in terms of color. He didn’t really think the team’s card was meant for shopping for normal clothes rather than gear, but Abram doubted Andrew would have taken it without Wymack’s permission. Not knowing what to say, he got out of the car and waited for Andrew to join him.

It was a weekday in the afternoon, so thankfully the mall wasn’t nearly as crowded as it had to potential to be. Andrew walked in like he had a purpose and didn’t bat an eyelash at all the clothing stores they passed. He went to the second floor and headed straight into one of the expensive looking stores at the end of the mall. Abram pursed his lips, but didn’t think arguing with Andrew would go anywhere.

He looked around the store, feeling a little lost at all the options. They all looked a little like the Ravens’ style of clothing, but distanced from it with casualness and a little color, like the outfits he’d been given every time he went clubbing with the monsters. “Is this where you buy all your clothes?”

Andrew hummed noncommittally and gestured to the racks in front of them. Abram didn’t know the first thing about making fashions choices of his own. He thought if he were allowed to pick his own clothes he would end up looking like a rendition of everything he’d ever worn during his time as a Raven. Andrew rolled his eyes at his hesitancy and began to look through the racks like he already knew where everything was. After a moment deliberating, Abram figured he did, thanks to his eidetic memory.

A pile of neutral-colored fabric began to pool in Andrew’s arms and only stopped growing when they’d made it around the entire store. Abram was thankful none of the salesmen had come out to greet them, but maybe they already knew better than to bother Andrew. He looked confused as Andrew pushed him to the back of the store when he was done and even more when the clothes were tossed to his own arms.

“Fitting room,” Andrew said, like Abram was particularly stupid.

Most of the clothing fit him well, which was unsurprising after weeks of Andrew having to pick out his clothes for him, but Abram didn’t know what to do with all of them. He didn’t know how much each cost and he didn’t dare look. When the opened the curtain to see Andrew sitting on a black couch he gestured to the neatly folded pile of clothes that did him well and walked out to let Andrew decide what to do. Andrew surprised him by taking them all to the cashier and sliding the Foxes’ card with no hesitancy. He hoped he wouldn’t get chastised by Wymack later.

Next they went to get him shoes, but this time Abram convinced Andrew to let him get only three pairs of high-quality sneakers. He wasn’t so shocked at the amount this time, because good sportswear had been expensive ever since he started playing Exy. Andrew did, however, take a pair of black boots and paid with his own credit card, thrusting the bag towards Abram with no explanation. When Abram didn’t immediately take it, he said it was because he couldn’t afford taking him out to Eden’s with bright training sneakers.

“Shouldn’t we get me some gear now that I’m cleared for practice?” Abram said, once they were back in the car and they passed by an Exy supply store on their way to the Columbia house.

“You’re not cleared for practice. Today was a kindness,” Andrew said, bored like he always was when someone spoke fondly of Exy near him. Then, he explained, “Kevin would bitch for the rest of the year if we got your gear without him around.”

After agreeing that Kevin would, indeed, do that, Abram settled down on the seat until they got to the other side of town. His leg hadn’t slowed down on its healing, but after a day of relatively strenuous activity and walking around for a couple hours in the mall, he could feel his knee starting to throb. Andrew eyed his leg when Abram extended it with a small groan, but didn’t say anything.

Parking in the Columbia house alone with Andrew felt a little more intimate than it fundamentally should be. Abram had gotten used to coming here throughout the weekends, but he had always been around flamboyant Nicky and Kevin’s unsettling presence. Being truly alone with Andrew, with miles separating them from anyone they knew, left him to acknowledge the building connection between them that came both from desperation and understanding. It was as sad as it was surprising, and Abram didn’t know how to deal with forming a real bond with someone that didn’t entirely involve his survival instincts.

Andrew clearly wasn’t feeling as affected as him by their isolation, because he got out of the car and walked the steps to the front door. He turned around with a semi-curious look when Abram didn’t follow him, and his unchanging expression finally made the striker move. Abram stopped in front of Andrew and waited for him to open the door. It took him a few seconds to realize Andrew had extended his hand in front of him and was clearly expecting a reaction. He looked down with furrowed eyebrows at the fist between them and lethargically extended his own palm. He frowned when a silver key fell onto it and looked up at Andrew’s golden eyes.

“This is a key,” Andrew said, in the same tone he always used when he was mocking someone.

Abram looked back down at his hand. He understood what the object was, but the implications of it were more uprooting. Slowly, he turned on the doorstep and tried to place the key into the door. He fell breathless when the key turned and he walked into the house; it felt like something out of his grasp, but only because he had never felt like he belonged anywhere in his entire life before. Abram looked back at Andrew questionably, but Andrew seemed disinterested as he paced back and forth the porch with a cigarette between his lips. The dismissal was a clear message that he didn’t want the key back.

The understanding of what he was being offered settled in parts. Having a place that was actually safe, that he could go to whenever he wanted and not care about whether someone was monitoring his every step almost sounded like _home_. It was a foreign concept he didn’t entirely let himself embrace. The Foxes had promised him they wouldn’t let his masters take him, but Abram knew theirs and his own best chances were if he left as soon as possible. The chances of his father attacking in such rapid succession were minimal, but the window of time was too small for him to take roots anywhere. He found that the thought of dying alone halfway around the world was softened by the knowledge that the Foxes would be safe from harm. Still, as traced the key with his finger, Abram discovered that knowing he would have had a home somewhere else had things been different set his heart racing out of his chest. It was terrifying and bittersweet, and he loved every second of it.

Abram sat down on the couch to process until Andrew had finished his smoke. He had been going through even more cigarettes than usual lately, preoccupied with trying to figure out a way that would let him out alive, despite Abram’s constant insistence that it would lead nowhere. Abram watched as he walked around the porch with faux serenity and gathered his thoughts. It was something he usually did, after many hours spent in active conversation, but today the look on his eyes looked particularly conflicting. Abram wondered what could possibly have left Andrew in this state.

It became obvious, after a while, that Andrew wouldn’t be coming in anytime soon, so Abram got up from the couch and started on dinner. He didn’t know much about cooking, product of having chefs at his disposal in both Baltimore and the Nest, but recently the cousins had been on a mission to get him to get by in case he really needed it. He found the process entirely too boring, but he was eager to learn for when he got out of Palmetto and started living by his own. Abram produced pasta and tomato sauce from the cabinets and leaned back on the counter to wait for it to get ready.

Andrew still wasn’t back by the time he’d set the food on the table, so he called for him and watched him tense before throwing away his cigarette. Abram noticed with a frown that it had burned to the filter and looked put down even between Andrew’s lips. He wondered if this was still the first one Andrew had taken out, which left him even more worried than before. He knew better to push Andrew when he clearly wasn’t ready to speak, so he sat down in front of him at the table and dug into his plate of badly-cooked macaroni.

They had both already finished and move on to the couch when Andrew finally acknowledged his presence beyond basic conversation. He looked away from the soccer match on the television and towards where Abram was feigning interest in the sport. Andrew said, quietly, “Ichirou Moriyama stopped by the campus last night.”

Abram closed his eyes. “No.”

“He asked to meet with me, specifically, because apparently I’m becoming too much of an annoyance and he’ll take measures as soon as Seth’s death scandal settles down if I don’t reassess my behavior,” Andrew continued.

“I’m sorry.”

Ichirou Moriyama only ever met with Abram once. He had been younger at the time and not yet molded into a mafia boss, trailing after his father as he and the Butcher discussed important business. Abram knew, by now, that with Kengo’s recurring illness left an important spot in the Moriyama organization that was being fulfilled by Ichirou himself, and that he was the head of the family for all purposes. For him to pay Palmetto a visit meant that the main family was more impatient with Abram’s situation than he’d anticipated.

He sighed, defeated. He thought he’d have more time than a mere few weeks with the Foxes, with Andrew and Kevin without the oppressive claws of the Moriyamas and the Wesninskis breathing down his neck. His time in Palmetto felt like a dream, a fantasy he hadn’t ever allowed himself to imagine, and he didn’t want to let go from it. He thought about the feeling he’d had a mere few hours ago when he’d finally connected with Allison and when he’d played with the Foxes for the first time. Abram felt like he was already addicted to it; he’d been prepared for months with them, being Abram W., their friend, who would get to say goodbye and thank all the people who had helped him. Suddenly, he felt surprised that he even had this kind of feelings in him after so many years of living with the detachment of the Ravens.

Beside him, Andrew looked oblivious to his internal crisis. “Stop saying you’re sorry,” he said. “Now is the time to fight back, Abram. To survive.”

“I won’t put you in jeopardy, Andrew. If I fight back, they will retaliate and you _will_ die.”

“Big news, martyr boy,” Andrew said. “I put myself in jeopardy already when I told Ichirou to stick his threats where the sun doesn’t shine. He laughed, but I would say he might come for me as well when he comes for you.”

It took Abram a minute. He sat there, looking at Andrew unresponsively, while the words slowly made sense to him. He only realized he’d started hyperventilating when a hand pressed against his chest and he felt it waver in front of him. Abram couldn’t get out of the mindset of the scared little boy who’d first met Kengo Moriyama and saw him torture a man until he wasn’t capable of rationality anymore. His father had brought him to watch around the time he’d been picked to audition for the Ravens, to make sure that he understood what happened to those who disobeyed orders from the family. Abram didn’t remember ever being so scared of anyone; the knowledge that this was the man who kept his father on a leash only added to the fear. He imagined Andrew’s face in the face of that man, over and over again as Kengo extracted every sparkle of life from him until he was left mentally retarded.

Abram could see Andrew’s face in front of him in Columbia, but the images of him at the Moriyamas mercy were at the forefront of his mind. He had resigned himself to suffer in their hands but had honestly thought that Andrew would turn out safe from them. Andrew had sealed his fate uncaringly, and though Abram knew it should anger him, he was dumbfounded at how naïve the goalie must be to willingly put himself into that path. It wasn’t possible that he knew what was waiting for him, and it made things even more terrifying.

His mind was at a race trying to find solutions for this, but he was on the verge of a panic attack and there were too many images to process. It left his head aching and his heart pounding so hard it ached all over his body. He couldn’t understand why the thought of Andrew dying was even worse than that of his own death, considering that had been his main concern ever since he could remember, but acknowledging what he was feeling now was even worse route than thinking about his future.

The hand on his chest struck once, hard, and then one more time, until he gasped and air was breathed back into his lungs. Abram looked up at Andrew, disoriented, but found that he was able to retreat from his panic as oxygen made way to his brain. When he thought he was able to form words again, he opened his mouth to apologize, again, but Andrew put a hand against his lips before he could make the first sound.

“I thought I told you to stop apologizing. You didn’t make me say anything to Ichirou; I was the one who chose not to bow my head and hear empty threats the way you do. You’re worried about the main branch? He came over to pass the message he’s watching; nothing further than that. We still have only the same enemies as before: your father and Riko. The only change is that now I’m a target, as well.” Andrew shrugged, like he wasn’t at all worried about his own life. It made Abram sick to his stomach.

“I can’t let you throw your life away like that.”

“You don’t _let_ me do anything, Abram. I am my own person, and I am going to find a way to fight against them until they at least leave us— _you_ —alone. Now,” Andrew said. “Could you get in touch with the mob family your mother came from if you wanted to?”

Abram felt his mouth twitch unpleasantly. He hadn’t thought about his family in London in years, but his mother had made sure he had a direct line to them if he was ever desperate enough to get involved with another crime family. He was thankful he still remembered the numbers she’d had written down on a binder he left locked inside his closet at Castle Evermore. He nodded, hesitantly, though he didn’t like where this was headed.

“Would they harbor you if you needed to lay low for a while?”

“Not for free,” Abram said, resigned. “Never for free. There’s a reason I didn’t go to them all these years, Andrew.”

Andrew sprawled on the couch, his face rigidly set. There was more expression there than usual, probably because he’d forgotten to keep his feeling at bay amidst the intensity of the situation. He looked at Abram with furrowed eyebrows and said, quietly, “You’re out of other options.”

It was stating the obvious, but Abram found that hearing it was what shattered all his resolve. He’d counted on running away if any more threats were directly made, but he hadn’t anticipated Andrew would put himself in harm’s way only for the pettiness of not letting him do this on his own. He pulled his iPhone from his pocket then thought better and replaced it with the burner Andrew had given him. With a sigh, Abram prepared himself to let go of everything he’d been these past few weeks and start down a path he was sure would lead to his death, one way or the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you think the second half of this chapter was poorly written, thats because my brain has been entirely filled with chem, physics and math formulas, and i cant write my own name coherently. maybe i'll rewrite it when i have the chance. pls be nice im a poor human bean


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